Episode 14: Revelation
by JPC
Summary: A mysterious scientist helps Buffy avert an apocalypse while offering potentially groundbreaking discoveries to her about Slayers and vampires. Also, Spike and Buffy try to come together without blowng each other up.
1. Traps of Power

This is Episode 14 of an alternate Season Seven I began writing in the Summer of 2002. I wrote this story in November and December of 2002. At the time it was my longest story by far. It has five or six plots that dovetail into an extended, action-packed apocalyptic climax. Because of this, it can stand on its own, apart from the rest of the series.

The title refers to knowledge revealed by Patrick Gugan, the creepy yet compelling post-doctoral student who's done pioneering research on demons and vampires in his spare time. He's an arch-rationalist who feels a need to scientifically explain all the paranormal things in Sunnydale. He also conducts experiments. Buffy and Willow want his knowledge but fear his experiments, and for good reason. In Episode Twelve, several of his demon-killing "good" vampires got loose. Aside from the bizarre passive resistance they showed Buffy, the vampires stood out for their ability to go out in the sunlight, thanks to Patrick's pioneering gene therapy. He's also in contact with a network of ex-Watchers who believe that one Slayer need not die for another to rise. They also claim the story of the First Slayer story is a myth invented by the Council, and that Slayer Power has biological, not magical, origins. Suffice it to say, Buffy can't help but be curious about these wacky beliefs and the evidence that allegedly supports them. In this episode, Patrick helps gain Buffy's trust by risking his life to help her prevent an apocalypse.

But that's not all. Willow tries to begin her first post-Tara relationship with a punky bisexual musician named Zooey. (I hope you find her much cooler than Kennedy.) Anya and Sterling get increasingly serious as Anya realizes she's falling in love. With Anya clearly over him, Xander tries to move on with Elise, but can't help but worry it'll end in disaster just like his other two relationships. Finally, Dawn becomes friends with Elijah, a cute, intelligent and sensitive boy who clearly wants to be more than friends. Dawn doesn't want to be lonely. On the other hand, she still feels attached to Connor. Naturally, Buffy wants her kid sis to move on to anyone other than Connor.

Speaking of her, Buffy and Spike try to repair a relationship he scuttled a month before with his usual self-destructiveness. In a reversal of their past roles, Buffy pushes for them to be closer, while Spike pulls away for reasons Buffy can't completely understand.

The chronology jumps around in the first few chapters, the result of revisions I made to adapt this story to the chapter format. I've helpfully provided dates. Even without the dates, it should be easy to follow what's happening. I just wanted to introduce as many plots as possible in the opening chapter.

Two small parts of this story aren't stand-alone. One is a conclusion to the plot thread involving Amy and her mother Catherine that was introduced in Episode 12. The other is an introduction of a plot thread involving Jonathan and Andrew that will be continued in Episode 15. The rest is self-contained. Enjoy. And comment. Please comment.

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TUESDAY, JANUARY 21, 2003

A coyote strolled the grounds a large estate. He was hungry, and there hadn't been any rabbits in the garden on this night. But there was meat. He could smell it in a clearing. But when he got to the source, he was unable to see it.

"Unimpressive," a disembodied voice declared.

"This is where we're going to fulfill our ancient destiny?," another voice asked.

"Location is irrelevant," a third voice thundered. "We're about to create nothingness, and you quibble about things? I'm not sure you're ready for the transformation." The poor confused coyote could smell and hear these three invisible beings all around him. He spun in a circle and whimpered. He explored with its paws, touching a leg, then gnawing on it. A man appeared. He was tall and thin, with a shiny, bald ivory head. The animal, spooked by the size of his prey, tried to run away. But the man was quick. He spun, took a few long steps, and grasped the coyote by his tail with his left hand, carrying the squirming animal back to the others, who materialized. One was average height, bald except for a single, long, braided tassel of brown hair. The third was tall and bulky, with a tonsure and long braids down his back. The bald man let go of the tail and grabbed the back of the coyote's neck with his right hand and listened to it growl.

"It's not lack of splendor I object to," the first man insisted. "It's the vulnerability."

"Our natural defenses are minimal. The Slayer can attack us with impunity."

"Nonsense," the third man said with a calm smile as he look at the growling coyote's teeth, slowly calming it down with his reassuring gaze. "She lacks the weapons with which to harm us."

"What about the Temple? How can we stop her from destroying it? You think we can keep our activity secret until it's finished?"

"Why shouldn't I? We're not doing anything illegal. Heck, I even have all the proper permits."

"A permit for the apocalypse. Only in Sunnydale," the second one quipped.

"It's a nice town. If you only have to visit it once," the first one offered.

"The end of the world is worth a few weeks of tedium," the leader added. The coyote licked his face. He bit the animal's neck and drained him. "The blood of a killer. Nothing is sweeter." He tossed the corpse and walked away, his two lackeys in tow. Several dobermans surrounded and sniffed the body. "Dog eat dog world."

"I guess this will do for the short term."

"The short term is all this world has left."

After fleeing Sunnydale, Jonathan and Andrew headed down to Mexico and hid out in Mazatlán, a city on Mexico's west coast about 1,000 miles south of the border. Jonathan worked as an assistant for a local shaman. Andrew worked as a towel boy at a local resort frequented by American tourists, or, as he insisted on referring to his job title, "Aquatic Recreation Attendant." They shared a small apartment, thought they rarely talked and lived largely separate lives. Andrew worked during the day. Jonathan frequently worked at night. This lack of contact worked out well, since neither was particularly fond of the other. The only thing that kept them together was their shared status as fugitives.

Jonathan wanted to turn himself in. He was ready to pay for what he did. But he didn't want to pay too much. He had followed reports of the case on the web at a local internet cafe. The police knew there had been one attempted robbery which resulted in the arrests of two of the three perpetrators. They knew that the next day the third perpetrator shot two people, killing one, presumably because they were witnesses to the robbery. That night, the two suspects in custody escaped from prison, presumably with the help of the third. None of the three had been seen since.

The police had discovered some of their plans from seized computers. What they couldn't figure out was why three young men with no criminal history would concoct such a grandiose and outlandish scheme. One theory was that they were losers trying to make a name for themselves. But the plans seemed much too detailed for the "loser" theory to hold. The second theory was that they had professional assistance, that they were part of some larger organization. One hypothesis was that the robberies were intended to raise millions for some as yet unknown terrorist organization, a latter day Symbionese Liberation Army or something like that. The combination of cold-blooded murder, a well-planned crime spree, and three "kids next door" behind it all fed the sensationalism.

Warren's non-existence complicated Jonathan's plans to come clean. There was no easy way for him to prove that Warren was dead. If Jonathan turned himself in without offering any information as to Warren's whereabouts, Jonathan would probably be charged as an accessory to murder. With Warren not around, Jonathan would take the wrap for Warren's crimes. Jonathan could give the police Andrew, but that didn't solve the problem. Jonathan could not hope for a favorable deal until he could find Warren's body. But there was no body.

Willow had made things very difficult for Jonathan. She committed the perfect murder. Not was the body disposed of, but the methods she used to kill him were so incredible that no police officer or prosecutor would ever believe the truth. Besides, Jonathan had no interest in causing any trouble for Willow. He knew Warren had it coming. He was sorry he hadn't done it first and saved Willow the trouble.

In the meantime, Jonathan was learning quite a bit from his shaman employer. He had access to powerful new folk magics. As always, Jonathan was a quick study. He impressed his boss with his abilities. The sorcerer thought much of his apprentice. He didn't know Jonathan was planning to use magic as a means of escape, as his ticket back to Sunnydale.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2003

Willow walked into the Espresso Pump. Buffy was behind the counter. "How do you like your new job?"

"No ugly uniform, no stench of processed meat permeating my every pore. I could get used to this."

"You never told be how you snagged this job."

"Last week I was out patrolling and took a stroll through town. I hear something behind this door. Vampire attacks guy. I slay vampire, save guy. Turns out the guy I saved was Walter Hopkins, the owner of this place. I thought of what Patrick said about how I never got paid for all the lives I save. So I decided to try it out. I asked for a job, and he said yes."

"I supposed that's the least he could do. Literally."

"Not that I don't like seeing you, but don't you get your noon caffeine rush at school?"

"Usually. But today I'm meeting Zooey."

"Girlfriend Zooey? That's great! I've been waiting to meet her."

"Actually, I'm not sure about that. The girlfriend part, I mean."

"Willow, don't turn around, but I think there's a girl checking you out." Willow turned.

"Zooey! It's so great to see you!" What are you doing all the way over there?"

Zooey walked over. "Enjoying the view. And wondering who the pretty girl was you were getting all chummy with."

"Zooey, this is Buffy." Buffy took a look. Purple hair. Nose ring. Eyebrow ring. Tattoos on both arms. Attractive. But more butch and bohemian than Buffy expected.

"Great to finally meet you, Buff. So you're Willow's best friend. I mean, her other best friend. The one she never had a crush on."

Buffy looked confused. "She means Xander," Willow explained.

"Course, now that I've seen you, I'm having trouble understanding why," Zooey added, with a flirtatious smirk.

Buffy wasn't used to girls flirting with her. "Um, well, uh, gee -"

"Relax. It's a compliment, not a come-on, Buff. Just being friendly."

"Oh! You thought, that I thought, that you were? Well, I wasn't. Thank you, I guess. It's great to meet you, Zooey. And it's Buffy, not Buff."

"My mistake, Buff. Won't happen again."

Willow tried to smooth things over. "We should hang out some time. The three of us."

Zooey had a better idea. "Or the four of us, with Xander tagging along. He's a fun tagger."

"You know Xander?," Buffy asked Zooey.

"We've hung out. He's nice. Chock full of levity and such."

"Yeah, he's big on the levity," Buffy concurred.

"A friend of Willow's is a friend of mine," Zooey explained. "Actually, a friend of Willow's is usually the lover of a friend of mine. I think you're the only one of Willow's friends who isn't dating one of my friends."

"Excuse me, but which friends are these?," Buffy asked. She hadn't put together the connection between Sterling, Elise and Zooey.

"Elise and Sterling," Willow explained. She's dating Xander, he's dating Anya."

"Well, isn't that an amazing coincidence," Buffy exclaimed. She wasn't aware of the common thread which connected all of them.

"Not really," Zooey began. "I mean, we're all in the same band. Seems the only one in the band who's not dating one of Willow's friends is Spike." Buffy got a little startled. "But he doesn't strike me as the dating type. Do you know Spike, Buffy?"

"We've bumped into each other a couple times," Buffy responded, oblivious to her little double entendre.

"So then you know he's an odd sort of fellow. Like with his groupies -"

"Spike has groupies?," Buffy asked in a moment of spontaneous jealousy.

"He doesn't seem to notice them. It's bizarre, to never even make a move for a single one, ever. After all, everyone gets lonely. But he's into the solitude. That's why we call him Mister Garbo."

"Why do you call him Mister Gordo?," Buffy asked, mistakenly hearing the name of her favorite stuffed animal.

"No. It's Mister Garbo. Because he always wants to be alone." That sounded a lot like the Spike Buffy had encountered recently.

"How bout we get our coffee?," Willow proposed. Spike was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Zooey and Willow got their orders and sat down at a table. Zooey didn't waste time with small talk.

"I wanted to talk to you about the other night. It was all so sudden. Like going from first to fourth without popping the clutch. You get impulsive and do that, you blow the transmission and wreck your car. It didn't want to wreck what we had, what we have." Willow was drinking a cappucino, and accidentally got a little cream on her nose.

"You have something on your nose," Zooey told her. Then she reached out and wiped it off. Willow smiled. Zooey smiled. They stared at each other for a couple seconds. Zooey returned to her little speech. "You have to take things slow, go from first to second to third to fourth, and, okay, I'm making a bad automotive analogy. What I'm trying to say is, I thought we needed time to assess this, um, shift, in our relationship. Now we've had that time. And if you still want to, well, insert your own metaphor, I'm game." She put her left hand under the table and touched Willow's right leg. Willow grinned.

"We're not still talking about cars, now are we?." Willow joked.

"Nope," Zooey responded, rubbing Willow's leg. Then she put her hand back on the table, picked up her coffee and drank.

"Good," Willow replied. "I'm mean, great! We've been fighting this for so long, and eventually I said to myself Why fight it?' If I deny my feelings, I'm just lying to myself.'"

"Exactly," Zooey answered. She looked at her watch. "I have to hurry off to get to work. I'm sorry. About leaving, not about seeing you. I'm really, really happy about that, about us. About the fact that there is an us. I guess this means we're going out or something," she said with a disbelieving chuckle.

"Right. You're my girlfriend. Meaning we can do all those things which are inappropriate to do with friends. When exactly do we start doing those things?"

Zooey took Willow's hand. "Right now would be great, but we're in public, I have to go to work, and I think you have classes."

"I'm free tonight," Willow proposed.

Zooey looked frustrated. "Dammit! I'm not. We have a gig tonight in San Benardino. Curse Spike and his burgeoning popularity!" Willow had no trouble with that. "I'm just kidding," Zooey added. "Wouldn't want to curse the guy who's helping me pay my rent. But the timing couldn't be worse. How bout tomorrow? The Bronze. Eightish?"

"It's a date," Willow answered excitedly.

"Yes. It is. See you then, girlfriend." Zooey finished her coffee and left.

While Willow and Zooey were conversing, Catherine Madison walked into the Espresso Pump. Willow's back was to the door, so she didn't see Amy's mom. Catherine walked up to Buffy. Buffy's blood ran cold.

"Double half-decaf latte please," Catherine told Buffy. Buffy stood frozen.

"Double half-decaf latte please," Catherine repeated. "It's been a while since I've been in here, but the way I remember it working is I order, you take my money and give me my beverage. You do work here, right?"

Buffy decided to play along and do her job. She got the coffee, resisting the urge to throw it in the evil witch's face. Catherine paid for the $4 order with a $20 bill, telling Buffy to keep the change. "One more thing, Buffy. I just wanted to tell you that this is goodbye." Then she walked out. Buffy thought Catherine had just given her a death threat.

Willow came over to talk with Buffy, all giddy about what was happening with Zooey. "So Buffy, what do you think of my new girlfriend?"

"She's, uh, she's nice, I guess."

"This is so exciting!"

"I guess," Buffy said, staring into the distance.

"Is something wrong?"

"Amy's mom came in here. She told me she wanted to say goodbye."

Willow was a little confused. "Meaning she's not planning on seeing you again. Meaning she's planning on, oh no."

"Hasta la vista, Buffy was what came to mind," Buffy replied.

"What were her exact words?"

"I just wanted to tell you that this is goodbye.' That's what she said."

"That could mean any number of things, most of which have nothing to do with killing you. Of course we should take her seriously, since she is seriously psychotic and all, but let's not go overboard. Remember what happened when you went to her house. She might just be baiting you again for a sick laugh."

"Or she might actually be serious this time."

"Buffy, if she's going to kill you with magic, we'd know. You can't do that kind of thing without giving off massive signals. People would pick up on it. Anya would definitely pick up on it, because of the vengeance angle. So you'll have plenty of warning if it's a worst-case scenario. I'll go to campus, find Amy and see what I can get out of her. How soon do you get off work?"

"My shift's over in three-and-a-half hours. But I could leave early, seeing as how my boss owes me his life and all."

"Buffy, we've got you covered. I'm on it, Anya's on it. You'll be on it in a couple hours. In the meantime, remember, she's small-fry compared to what you've taken down. Don't sweat her. She doesn't deserve it."

That night, in the great hall of the mansion, a tall, bald man wore a red hooded robe. He stood in the middle of the room. A man in a hooded white robe with black trim walked up to him. He had a black blindfold over his eyes. The lights were off, except for the glow from the large fireplace. On either side of the fireplace stood four men wearing black hooded robes. The man in the red robe spoke to the man in the white robe.

"Do you swear to keep the secrets of the order, upon pain of death? Do you pledge to live according to its precepts and teachings? Do you vow to devote yourself to your own perfection, and to the perfection of the Brethren?" The man in the white robe slowly nodded. "Then you shall be born again!" The man in the red robe pulled back his hood. He pulled back the other man's hood. Then he bit the blindfolded man in the neck. After about five seconds, he pulled back. He thrust a teenage boy into the arms of the blindfolded man. He bit into the boy and drained him. The corpse fell to the ground. The man in the white robe held out his hands. The man in the red robe handed him a golden chalice. He took the chalice to his lips and drank.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 29, 2003

It was around 10:30 at night. Spike at back at his apartment, flipping through the channels. Buffy opened the door and entered. Spike never locked it. He didn't need locks to keep out the really dangerous unwelcome guests. Spike turned off the television and stood up. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a black button-down shirt. "What's with the non-black pants?," Buffy asked.

"Laundry day," Spike told her.

"Spike, we need to talk."

"I'm not ready for that."

Buffy looked cross. She walked towards Spike. "What's your problem? Used to be I couldn't get rid of you. Now you run away from me. I don't get it." She kept walking. He slowly backed up.

"Buffy, it's not your fault. It's mine. It's all my fault."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"I can't be around you."

She grabbed him and pushed him up against the wall and held him there. "You're really getting on my nerves. I've had enough of your games. Listen to me, Spike. Either you are going to love me, or you are going to die trying."

Spike gulped. Buffy had threatened to kill him plenty of times in the past. But it was always "get out of town or I'll kill you," "get out of my sight or I'll kill you," "stay away from the people I love, or I'll kill you." Never "love me or I'll kill you." That was new.

"So it's come to this. We must love one another or die,'" Spike told Buffy, quoting an Auden poem.

"No Spike, YOU must love me or YOU'LL die. Just you. Got it?" Then she let go.

"Why are you giving me another chance?"

"You think I like this?," Buffy asked angrily. "You think I want to love you? You think I didn't fight this every step of the way? You're the last thing I want. But right now you're the only thing I want. Do you have any idea how crazy that is!?"

"It think I do."

Buffy was pacing back and forth. She put her left hand to her forehead and shook her head back and forth in frustration. "Dammit Spike, what is your problem! I know you love me. So why can't you act like you do? You're human. You're SUPPOSED to have a soul. To put it your way, what the bloody hell is your damage?"

"I hurt you. I betrayed you. I made you suffer. And I don't know why. That's what scares me. I snapped, and I don't know if I can stop myself from doing it again."

"And you're afraid to take that risk. Since when were you afraid of taking risks?"

"Since you told me you loved me."

Buffy paused and thought through this paradox. "I through with this game. You want pain, punish yourself."

Spike was punishing himself. This was the third time he pushed her away. And each time was more painful than the last. It was torturous to hear her say she loved him and not take her in his arms and kiss her. Since becoming human, all he ever wanted was her love. Now he had it, but he couldn't enjoy it, because he didn't believe he deserved it.

Later than night, Spike found his way to the attack apartment where Patrick Gugan lived. The door was ajar, so he entered. Patrick, who was washing dishes in the kitchen, heard the noise, turned the faucet off and darted out into the living room. "Spike! What a surprise."

"We've never met."

"You're quite famous. And I'm not talking about that music thing."

"I've heard your the one with all the answers to questions nobody's asking."

"Except now, you're asking?"

"How does a guy like you learn so much about demons on his own?"

"I'm biologist. I study living things. A lot of the living things around here happen to be demons. It's a question of habitant, really."

"I didn't ask why. I asked how."

"Dissections. Experiments. Years of patient research."

"You didn't do it the easy way and steal from the Initiative?" Patrick laugh.

"I couldn't have stolen from the Initiative. They didn't do the research. Didn't even try. They were pseudo-scientists."

"Pseudo-scientists who knew enough to put a chip in my head to keep me from feeding."

"Oh yes. That crude and primitive form of mind control. Headaches on demand. Shouldn't have been that hard to do. Capture some specimens. Perform a few CAT-scans, EKG's, get a good look at the vampire's neurochemistry, then create a simple reverse feedback loop. The chip's probably lodged in your hypothalamus, with a little wire snaking into your medulla so that it can't be easily removed without severing the neurons you need to live. When a vampire feeds on humans, its brain cells get deluged with a special cocktail of happy neurochemicals. When the chip senses the release of these chemicals, it stimulates nerve endings which cause you to feel a wicked awful headache. The funny thing is, migraines are caused by swelling in the blood vessels around the brain. But vampires don't have pulsating blood flow, so they can have any swelling blood vessels. They shouldn't be able to have migraines. Pain is a response to a stimulus. At least it's supposed to be. In your case there was no stimulus. Your brain told your nerve cells to feel pain which didn't exist. I'm sure that didn't make it hurt any less. But it really was all in your mind." Spike was not happy. Dru was right. Electricity lied. "By the way Spike, does it still work, now that you're human?"

Spike made a fist and looked menacing. "Want to find out?"

"Whoa, whoa, killing the messenger! Not good! You're smarter than that, Spike." Spike punched him in the shoulder. Not really hard, but enough to sting a little.

"Fair enough. That's very interesting. It's also what I would have predicted. Humans are incapable of producing and releasing the vast amounts of neurochemicals needed to activate the chip. Hurting humans may get another human off, but not the way it gets vampires off. By the way, chips need electricity, and a battery to produce that electricity. I had a source on the inside who kept me apprised of how far behind me Maggie's lab was. She told me the batteries couldn't be good for much more than three years. After that, the chip doesn't work. That would have been, what, last Fall in your case? Perhaps you got your soul in the nick of time." Patrick started laughing quietly at the irony of it all. Spike wasn't exactly happy, cause the joke was on him. Plus, no one likes being treated as a lab animal. Again.

"You're just saying that to piss me off."

"Yes. But it's also the truth. The Initiative didn't know how relatively easy it was to restore a vampire's soul. Course the hard part is keeping the newly ensouled vampire alive. Time and again, that's always been the stumbling block."

"What do you mean by ALWAYS?"

"You really thought Angel was the only one? That only one clan of gypsies had this spell and they only ever used it on one vampire? Come on. You should know better. Lots of groups had versions of the spell. It's been used at least dozens of times, probably hundreds. Angel wasn't close to the first. Hell, he wasn't even the last. But he was the only one known to have survived more than a few years. Sometimes they kill themselves because they can't take the pain and the guilt. Often they're killed by their fellow vampires. A vampire with a soul is kind of like a heretic, so they usually burn him at the stake to cleanse the group of the vile impurity. Why did he make it and endure where others didn't." Patrick shrugs. "Like I care. That's psychology. Which isn't even a real science."

"So Angel's not the only one. Am I? Have any others become human?"

"Not that I know of."

"And you're a pretty knowledgeable guy." Spike liked the idea that he was unique and Angel wasn't.

"I'm a researcher, not a historian. Anyway, who can really know these things? Say a vampire became human, adopted a new identity and never told anyone about his past. Or they killed themselves after a while, like the ensouled vampires. By the way, just for the sake of knowledge, after you got your soul back, and you realized you deserved to die, what kept you going?" Spike snarled, turned around, left and slammed the door behind him.


	2. Not So Lonely Anymore

WEDNESDAY. JANUARY 29, 2003

Dawn felt uncomfortable going to school the morning after that party where she made such a scene. She felt like a freak. She hated that feeling. But not everyone who saw her take down Clarke viewed her as a freak. Elijah certainly didn't. Elijah was not the physical sort. He was short and slightly built, 5 feet 7 inches tall, maybe 120 pounds. He had straight, floppy blonde hair and soft blue eyes, looking cute but fragile.

Elijah nervously approached Dawn, who stood at her locker. She turned to her right and saw him.

"Hey Dawn. It's me, Elijah. I'm a friend of Janice's."

"Hey Elijah. I know who you are." Elijah thought that was great.

"I saw you at Stoler's party last night. That thing you did to Clarke was unbelievable."

"It's not something I'm proud of."

"Well you should be. Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

"Okay, you may have a point there," Dawn conceded with smile. Elijah was making progress.

"Anyway, after you left, I went out to talk with you. But then I saw you with that rocker guy, Spike. I don't mean to pry, but you two don't have a relationship, do you?"

Dawn laughed hard. "You thought Spike was my boyfriend!? God no! He's just someone I know. He knows my older sister."

Elijah breathed a sigh of relief and felt slightly embarrassed for making that assumption. "That's good. I just saw you two together, in the middle of the night, and I didn't know what to think. Wait, I'm giving you the wrong idea. I'm not trying to ask you out. Well, I am, but not in that way. I promise I won't do anything to cause you to go all Bruce Lee on me."

"You wanna be my friend?""A friend? I can always use another one of those."

Dawn arrived with Elijah at the Magic Shop. They saw Spike and Anya.

"Hey guys. This is my friend Elijah. Elijah, this is Spike and Anya."

"Right. I know Spike. Nice to meet you guys. Hold on. You're not by any chance Sterling's Anya, are you?"

Anya was a bit shocked. "You know Sterling?"

"I've jammed some with him."

"What do you play?," Spike wondered.

"Guitar, piano, sax. Which reminds me, I have to get back to school for jazz band practice. I'd love to talk music with you sometime, Spike."

Spike was thrilled to meet a fan, and eager to get out of work. "I could talk with you on your way back. I can take a break, right Anya?"

"No problem. You barely show up as it is." Spike left with Elijah.

"So that's your new boyfriend?," Anya asked Dawn. "He's pretty. And a musician to boot! I know how sexy that can be."

"We're just friends."

"Of course you are. That's how these things always start out. By the way, what happened to that other boy: the muscular athlete?"

"You mean Clarke? He got a bit too touchy-feely-grabby last night, so I sent his face through a coffee table."

Anya smiled and patted Dawn on the back. "I'm so proud of you, Dawny. You're becoming a woman." She got a little choked up. "You learned a valuable lesson, young lady. Men must fear you before they can love you."

"Don't you mean they must respect you?"

"Same thing. I've observed tens of thousands of couples over the centuries. And men never hurt women they fear. It's the only path to true love. Now this beatdown you gave Clark - "

"It wasn't a beatdown!"

"You sent him through furniture. That's a beatdown in my book. Stop acting all ashamed. Be proud of your prowess. Speaking of which, how public was this beatdown?"

"It was a party. There were like 60 people there. That's why it was so embarrassing."

"Embarrassing for Clarke. But great for you. Now the boys fear you. Oh sorry, I mean respect' you. They'll never try to hurt you again."

"Yeah, they'll run from me in fear."

"Nonsense. Haven't you learned anything from your sisters' experience?"

Elijah looked familiar to Spike. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Maybe you've seen my group, Windowpane?"

"No, that's not it." Then he remembers that Elijah was the pretty blonde boy vampire Dawny drained in the alternate universe. How unsettling. "So Elijah, what is it you like about my music?"

"It's not really the music, so much as the presentation. You can't play well, but you look like you belong on stage. I can play great, but I don't look like I belong. I think I could learn a something from you."

"Thanks. I suppose."

"I don't mean to knock you. You're great at what you do."

"Great at what? Posing?"

"Which is essential. Think of Paul Simonin smashing is guitar on the London Calling' cover. The Ramones, the Sex Pistols – all the great bands had a look. Okay, there's Radiohead, but they're the exception that proves the rule. Otherwise jazz would still rule the world."

"So is jazz your thing?"

"Not really. The improv's empowering – Did I just say that. God, I hate that word – but it's also frustrating. It sets this standard you know you can never meet. Like, no matter how much I practice, I'll never be Ornette Coleman."

"That's a pretty high standard. How bout something lower, like Stan Getz?"

"You like jazz?" They enter the school grounds.

"Don't let the look fool you. I'm more than I seem?"

"Really. What's your favorite jazz album?"

"Kind of Blue."

"That's what everybody says."

"Sketches of Spain?"

"Another crossover. Not that they're not great, but it's like saying Sargent Pepper's' your favorite rock album."

"They're great for hangovers."

"And when you're not hungover?"

"I'll tell you what I like when that time comes around," Spike joked. "I also like Ornithology,' and This is Free Jazz.'"

"You? Free jazz?" Drusilla loved free jazz because the cacophony sounded so insane.

"More to me than you think."

"There's more to everybody."

"Not this much," Spike replied cryptically. They entered the building. The girls in the hallway noticed Spike. They started talking, turning their heads towards him, acting excited. Spike thought they were making fun of him. He was way too old to be walking the halls of a high school.

"Maybe I could find out what that is sometime. Say, at the Bronze. When you're not on stage. It's nice to meet someone who actually knows a thing or two."

"Yeah, well, you seem to know a thing or two more than me, Elijah. And I've been around. Cheers."

Elijah walked into the band practice room. Spike kept walking down the hall, until he realized he was going down a cul-de-sac. He saw the wall in front of him, and turned to walk back. When he turned around, he saw a dozen girls standing about 15 feet in front of him. He looked at them. They stared at him. Smiling, giggling, looking very happy to have cornered Spike. Spike felt as if he was being hunted.

"Is there something I could help you birds with?," he asked. They grew more animated after hearing his voice. They whispered to each other "It's really him! I think it's really him!"

"Are you Spike?," one of the girls in front asked.

"Last time I checked," he answered. "Can one of you tell me what the bloody hell is going on?" There was more giggling after he said "bloody hell," like it was some catchphrase they had been waiting for him to utter. They walked towards him. Spike backed up until he was against the wall. He smiled nervously.

"What are you doing here?," one of them asked.

"Not like you shouldn't be here," another added defensively.

"Are you playing a show here? That would be so exciting!"

"Your music's awesome."

"You were great last night."

"That's sweet of you to say," Spike answered as he tried to figure out how to escape before they crushed him or ripped his clothes off. Being mobbed by adoring fans sounded more fun in theory than it turned out to be in practice. The mob was slowly, inexorably closing in. "Watch the hair, watch the hair," he warned. Then he decided to make a break for it. "Truly flattered, but I must be heading out know." He put his head down and wedged his way through the crowd. Once he broke through the phalanx of female admirers, he ran for it. Spike sprinted out of the school grounds and onto the sidewalk before stopping to catch his breath. He shirt had been ripped open. A button was missing. He looked at his reflection in a store window. His hair was all mussed up. Otherwise he was fine, except for the shock of it all. He went back to the Magic Box. Xander was there.

"I thought you had work, Harris."

"We finished drywalling at 3 so the crew got the rest of the day off. What happened to you? You look like you've been attacked."

"I was. By about 30 high school girls. (Exaggerating, of course.) I'm having a friendly chat with Elijah when I get mobbed."

"Tell me about it," Xander answered. "I've been through that a few times myself."

"Once. And I got mobbed without having to resort to the black arts."

"Probably cause you're in a rock band," Anya suggested. "And you're wrong. Rock and roll is one of the black arts."

Xander was mystified. "Spike, a heartthrob? That's crazy. What's wrong with these girls? Are they crazy?"

"I think it's kind of ridiculous too," Dawn told Xander. "Not to mention totally gross."

Spike laughed. "Oh, come on! Don't you remember that crush you had on me."

"I never had a crush on you."

"Well, well, well. Aren't we forgetful? All those times you came over to my crypt, insisted on spending time with me."

"I just did that to rebel against Buffy," she coolly responded.

"This is great!." Anya announced. "Spike's famous, and I slept with him." Xander did not look happy. If you become really famous, I can sell my story for lots of money and tell the world how woefully inadequate you were in bed." Spike seethed. Xander looked happy once again.

"Who's Elijah?," Xander asked.

"Dawn's new boyfriend," Anya answered.

"He's NOT my boyfriend!," Dawn objected.

"Oh, sorry. He's your friend, and he's a boy, but he's not your boy-friend. You keep believing that little fiction," Anya joked.

"Whatever happened to Clarke?," Xander wondered. "Buffy said he was a really nice guy."

"Buffy's easily fooled by jerks who pretend to be nice boys, in case you haven't noticed," Dawn told Xander. This was a backhanded slap at Spike. "Clarke was a disappointment. But he was never my boyfriend. And neither is Elijah who, unlike Clarke, is not a jerk. Although I'm beginning to suspect he's using me just to get to Spike." This was a joke, but it stung Spike because the previous night Jane told him she thought Connor was his lover.

That night, Spike headed out to the Bronze for a drink. Staying home alone only compounded his torment. He needed the noise and the sight of strangers to distract him. He entered and looked around to make sure Buffy or Willow or anyone else he had recently hurt wasn't around. The coast looked clear. "Hey there Spike," a voice called out from behind. Spike turned around.

"Elijah! Short time no see."

"I didn't mean to bother you."

"No. No bother."

"Cool. I just gotta go out and feed the meter. Could you do me a favor and get me a beer?"

"No sweat." Spike went to get two bottles of beer. He liked talking to Elijah about music. Took his mind off his problems. He bought the beers. Then he walked around. A girl approached. Black hair. Big almond-shaped brown eyes. Wearing a black thrift store dress. She moved languorously towards Spike.

"Two-fisting it today, I gather," she told him.

He looked down at her. "Oh, these. This one's for a friend."

"So you're with company. Who's the lucky girl?"

"Not with a girl. Just waiting on a friend."

"So you're unattached?"

Spike processed this question and laughed. This teenage girl was highly presumptuous to be hitting on him with such confidence. "For the moment." She smiled.

"What a pity. You're Spike, right?"

"So you've heard of me?"

"I've heard of you. And I've heard you. And I've seen you. And my eyes and ears like what I've heard and seen." Spike thought she was coming on a bit strong. She smiled, then stared up into Spike's eyes as if she were trying to bore a hole into his brain.

Spike stood there for a few seconds in silence. So young, yet so aggressive. It was quite ludicrous. A little girl playing seductress. And there was something eerily familiar about this particular bird. Maybe she was a vampire. But she was breathing regularly, like a human. Spike had to let her down easy. "Look, love, I'm flattered really, but I'm sorry -"

"Oh, there's my beer," Elijah said as he walked up to Spike. He took his beer, twisted off the top. "Thanks for getting it." The girl looked stunned.

"Eli, what do you think you're doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing? Hanging out with my new drinking buddy." Spike and Elijah each took a swig.

"Since when did you hang out with Spike?"

"Since this afternoon."

"Nice to see you've moved on," she jokes. "Loved meeting you, Spike." Then she walked by them.

"What? No frat parties tonight?," Eli snarled. She turned around and snarled back.

"You know that girl?," Spike asked Elijah.

"You mean April? We used to date."

"You dated that?"

"For three years. Hell, I was in love with that.' Then she decided she wanted someone more mature.'" Spike glanced over at her. She didn't seem like Elijah's type. Spike was trying to figure it out. Then Elektra caught Spike's eye. She thought he was checking her out, and gave him a come hither look. Spike shuddered and turned away.

"So what were we talking about last?," Elijah asked Spike. "Oh, yeah. Ornette Coleman. You know he was Lou Reed's hero? You like Lou Reed, right?"

"What's not to like?"

"Most of his solo work over the last twenty years. That, and his personality. It's odd how all geniuses are monsters. Like they put so much of their soul into their work they have nothing left for everything else they do." Spike would rather not talk about soulful monsters. Fortunately, Elijah saw Dawn with Brandon and Janice. "Gotta go," he told Spike, finishing his beer and hurrying over to his new friends. Bothered by his nagging conscience, by worries that April would start hitting him again, and by the sight of Dawn with a boy he saw her kill in another reality, Spike decided to head for home.

"Hey guys. Mind if I join you?," Elijah asked.

"No," Dawn answered. Elijah looked devastated and walked away. Dawn grabbed his arm. "Elijah, where are you going?"

"You said you didn't want me around."

"I said I didn't MIND you hanging around. Which means I want you hanging around. Get it?"

"Of course. Silly me, so used to rejection."

"See Janice, now we finally have our fourth wheel," Dawn explained. Ever since Connor had left, Janice's and Brandon's coupling had left Dawn isolated. Hopefully, having Eli around would change that.

Always one to be proactive, Buffy barged into the Madison residence. Catherine heard someone enter. She came down the stairs. "It's not polite to break-and-enter, young lady. Actually, it's quit illegal. Someday someone less forgiving than myself could call the cops on you."

"What are you up to?," Buffy asked as she glared at Catherine.

Catherine gestured to the boxes in bare living room. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Preparing for a quick getaway?"

"Moving. Or didn't you notice the U-Haul in my driveway and the realtor's sign on my lawn?"

"You seem pretty confident you're gonna get away with it."

"Get away with what?" Catherine laughed. "You really are a self-centered little thing. Everything's about you. You probably think there are only three kinds of people in this world: those who are out to get you, those who want to help you, and those who need your help. Wake up, honey. It's a big world, and you're a teeny-tiny insignificant part of it. We all have to learn that lesson someday. It's called growing up. You might want to try it sometime."

Buffy struggled to suppress her rage. "You're a sick woman."

"Actually, I seem to be the level-headed one in this conversation. Sorry to disappoint. I could easily have made your hair fall out in clumps, or covered your hands with boils, or something else amusingly graphic. But why should I waste any more of my precious time and energy on you?

"So you're scared of me," Buffy concluded with some pride.

"You still don't get it, Summers. I don't care about you. Now if you wouldn't mind, leave my house, get off my property, and get a life of your own. This, I desperately hope, is goodbye." Catherine slammed the door. Buffy stood stunned for a few seconds before walking away.

Buffy, Willow and Dawn were eating dinner that evening. "I went by the house," Willow reported to Buffy. Amy's story seemed to match."

"Maybe she remembers what happened the last time she took you on," Willow suggests.

"There was major fear factor going on. I think I scared her off."

"Finally, a villain who's smart enough to run. Glad we can forget about that one. No use worrying about hypotheticals when we got plenty of real bad guys to deal with."

Dawn spoke up. "I think we all learned a lesson here. I'm not sure what it is."

"What's this I hear from Xander about a new boy in your life, Dawny?," Willow asks.

"A new boy? What happened to Clarke?," Buffy wondered.

"He wasn't quite the gentleman I thought he was."

"Too bad. I really liked Clarke. So who's the new guy?"

"Anya said he's cute," Willow added.

"You people desperately need lives of your own," Dawn declared. "His name's Elijah. He's a senior."

"An older guy."

"Not that much older. He skipped a grade."

"Smart and cute," Buffy enthused. Dawn is tempted to burst Buffy's Anybody But Connor bubble by pointing out that Eli seems very fond of Spike, but decides against exploiting her sister's personal travails.

"And just a friend."

After dinner, Buffy took her clothes out of the dryer and brought them up to her bedroom. While putting them away, she stepped on something. It was the reports from Patrick which Willow had given her. She had yet to read them. "Origins of Slayer Power." Sounded interesting. She dug in. She skimmed over the technical stuff and finished it in about an hour. It struck her as too detailed to be trusted. Then she checked out "History of the Councils," which was more of the same, only with greater sensationalism. She didn't believe any of it, yet had to know more about it, if only to debunk suck tempting arguments so they wouldn't nag at her.

Downstairs, Xander came over and saw Willow in the living room. "So how are things going with Zooey?"

"Great. Really great. We graduated from the awkward stage and now we're officially a couple. She's my girlfriend. My lover. I mean, my soon-to-be lover." Willow saw the look in Xander's eyes and realized she was overheating his imagination. "How's your girlfriend?"

"Elise? She's great. We've just been taking it slow. I'm not ready to rush into anything."

"Well then be careful you don't take it too slow. Relationship's like a shark. Gotta keep moving or it dies."

"Or it goes all Jaws-y and starts hurting innocent bystanders and ripping people's limbs off. That's been my experience."

"Xander, you're not jinxed."

"I'd agree with you if I could find any evidence to the contrary. But I can't. I date women. They get hurt. Then they become demons. Call me crazy, but I don't think Elise should go through that."

Buffy stomped down the stairs. "Where did he get those fun little books from?," she asked Willow about Patrick, whom Buffy already had great doubts about because of his attempts to train vampires.

"Friends. Other obsessed weirdos like him. Some of whom got kicked out of the Council and have an ax to grind. B-but that doesn't mean they're completely, one hundred percent wrong."

"You believe that stuff?"

"I believe everything can be explained scientifically, and that's what they're trying to do.

"Who's Patrick?," Xander asked.

"Our local mad scientist," Buffy responded.

"I thought the Initiative was through?"

"He's scarier. Remember the daytime vampires? His work."

"But they didn't kill people and they fought other vampires," Willow pointed out. Having been the first the suspect Patrick of nefarious schemes, she was the first to clear him in her own mind.

"Do-gooding vampires? So how nuts is this guy?"

"He's not nuts. He just uses science to question established beliefs and superstitions. Sure, he's a weirdo. But find me someone who does experiments on demon in their spare time who isn't? Okay. That did make him sound nuts. Maybe you should meet him."

"Perfect," Buffy responded. "Invite the mad scientist into my home."

"Buffy's he's harmless. And no, Xander, he's not trying to build Adam 2.0. In fact, he hates the Initiative more than we did."

"Maybe he's jealous," Xander quipped.

"Okay, so he believes in some stuff we find a little wacky. Wouldn't most people find the stuff we believe in wacky?"

"He makes us look sane?"

"I just want to know where the hell his friends got this stuff from," Buffy declared.

"What stuff?," Xander asked.

"I'm going to call Patrick and invite him over," Willow said as she stood up. "Don't worry. He's physically harmless. Even you could beat the crap out of him, Xander." He smiled, then realized they may have been an insult. After calling Gugan, Willow explained to Xander Patrick's friends' theories on Slayers. Suffice it to say, Xander found their belief in multiple Slayers quite appealing. Dawn came down, caught a listen, and then nagged until she was brought up to speed.

"I always knew you weren't the only Slayer," Dawn told Buffy. "Turns out your kind's a-dime-a-dozen. So much for all that Chosen One' nonsense."

Patrick knocked at the door. Buffy answered it. Patrick entered. "I see the posse or gang or Fellowship of the Slayer or whatever it is you style yourselves has been assembled." Patrick looked down the foyer and saw Dawn in the kitchen. "Is it okay if I get some water to drink?," he asked before going to talk to Dawn alone. He figured she might be mad at him for what happened the other week with the vampire Connor Clone.

"Dawn, I just want to say, that thing with the clone. I'm sorry. That wasn't supposed to happen. I'm sure it must have been horrible for you and I sincerely and profusely apologize. And please don't hit me or poke me with sharp objects, though I may deserve it." She wasn't used to people acting so meek and nebbishy around her. It made her feel powerful.

"It's okay, I've been through worse. There aren't others, are there?"

"Clones? No. Certainly not. And they're won't be. You don't have to worry about that."

"I won't hit you. Just as long as it doesn't happen again."

"You have my word." Patrick went out into the living room. Xander had a question.

"Is this stuff true? Are there really 12 Slayers?"

"That's a conservative estimate. There could as many as 16."

"And how could I find these women and, you know, train them?"

"I see you have a Slayer fetish. It figures."

Xander got indignant. "I do not!" Then he saw Buffy and Willow smirking. "Okay. But it's not a fetish."

"This is why you could never be a Watcher," Patrick explained.

"No. That's because I'm not good with books and can't read other languages."

"Also, the fetish."

"It's not a fetish!"

"Whatever it isn't, they don't want a Watcher getting all hot for his nubile young charge. Talk about a potential abuse of power. They have tests designed to weed out those who stand any chance of being attracted to Slayers."

"What about Slayer's moms?," Buffy asked.

Patrick paused. "I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"We do a lot of that around here," Dawn said as she sat down.

"My point was, I expected Xander to have a thing for Slayers. It fits the profile perfectly."

"I fit a profile?"

"The profile of the Slayer's helpers. See, the whole Slayers fight alone, die alone, live with a secret identity' is not the only tradition. Plenty of Watchers realized Slayers would be more effective if they weren't isolated, if they had friends to help them, to give them moral support, to provide them with people to live for. It's more common than you might think."

Xander was excited. "You mean there actually IS a prophecy about a Chosen One and her friends?"

"More of an oral tradition.

"That report," Buffy mentioned, getting back on topic and away from trivia. "It said at some point I'm going to stop being a Slayer. How do they know that?"

"They don't. Not firsthand. But there are allusions to retired Slayers. And it makes sense. There was a time when didn't have Slayer power. One day, that power appeared. So one day, it should disappear. A fifty year-old vampire Slayer doesn't make much sense. Are you upset that you'll stop being a Slayer?"

"I've never thought about it, you know, because it's based on me living long enough for my action hero status to become ridiculous."

"Yes, well, that Slayers can lose their power and that few of them live long enough to find out are scientifically unrelated facts. Except from your prospective, by the way, have I mentioned I've spent a lot of time in the lab and therefore lack certain interpersonal skills?"

"No need to apologize. This isn't a social event," Buffy responded, being both friendly (by forgiving him) and cold (by reminding him they are not friends and probably never will be.) "You're hear to argue that everything I've learned about being a Slayer is wrong," she added skeptically.

"Not everything. Just the parts you had to take on faith. Didn't the idea that someone "made" Slayers strike you as self-serving mythology designed by men to keep Slayers in line?"

"I thought you were a scientist," Willow joked. "Not some lit-crit deconstructionist."

"Just cause it's p.c. doesn't automatically mean it's wrong. Look at it from a conservation of magical energy standpoint. There's been more than one Slayer for how many years now? How did the power double? How can one Slayer simultaneously keep it and pass it on to another."

"There are, ways of explaining that," Willow replied.

"You're forgetting something," Buffy jumped in. I've met the First Slayer. We summoned her power."

"You have her power," Patrick responded, dumbfounded.

"The source of her power," Willow added. "To defeat Adam."

"Interesting. I would have tried to lure him in a giant vat of sulfuric acid. But that's so much less interesting. How did you do this possession thing?"

"There was a spell. In Sumerian."

"Sumerian." He mulled this over, then looked satisfied. "You didn't summon the First Slayer. You summoned Inanna," he replied with dismissive certainty.

"Who?," Buffy asked.

"You know, Ishtar." Buffy looked very confused.

"I was possessed by a bad movie?"

"Not the movie. The goddess. Strength of 120 men. Able to defeat any demon or god. Took the human form of a teenage girl. I can see how one could get confused."

"Except that, when I saw her, she didn't look at all Sumerian. Not that I know what a Sumerian would look like. But, whatever that is, she wasn't it."

"I'm sure she could assume the form of any young woman, if it's like a racial thing or something. The Sumerians thought Inanna was the source of a Slayer's power. For obvious reasons. She's the ultimate protector. But also the ultimate sex symbol. Ironically, the fact that she's so powerful, which makes her so desirous, also makes all her relationships disastrous because no man can hope to be her equal. And the one who comes closest, she sends him to hell for a variety of reasons, but mostly because of the circumstances surrounding her own death and resurrection by a witch friend of hers. So, in a way, she's nothing like a real Slayer." Everyone's very quiet. Patrick wondered if it was something he said. "Also, she's spiteful and petty and destroys people, or whole towns, just to remind everyone that she's the most kickass thing around." He laughed weakly. "And hence was a parody of what could happen if a Slayer became completely independent and rebellious and amoral."

There was still a long pause, which worried Patrick. "Have you been keeping tabs on us?," Willow asked, articulating Buffy's suspicions.

"Hardly. I learned pretty quickly that trouble tended to follow you guys wherever you went, and I wasn't eager to be the anonymous bystander who got killed in the crossfire. Plus, each year at the beginning of May I leave town and spend the summer working at Brookhaven Labs in Long Island. And each September when I return I hear the weirdest stories from my friends about what happened while I was gone. Say what you will about the viciousness of the people who summer in the Hamptons, but their vampires and demons are pretty soft by Sunnydale standards."

"The Hamptons has vampires?," Dawn asked. "Do they ever attack the rich and famous?"

"They're sycophants, like everyone else out there. They'd rather hang around the stars than kill them. They feed off the nobodies. But only the weekenders, never the townies. Otherwise the locals would go after their lairs. Sometimes they create problems. Messed up a couple of P Diddy's and Jay-Z's big parties. Now their bodyguards have stakes and holy water in addition to Glock 9's. It's also why Puffy started wearing excessively large crosses around his neck. Keeps the vamps from sucking up to him, or sucking on him."

"How do you know all this?," Dawn wondered. "No offense, but you don't look like the type who hangs around celebrities."

"I don't. A few years ago when a big security outfit was figuring out how to deal with the vampire menace, someone told them I knew stuff and lived nearby. They called me. I told them to install a network of temperature sensors around a venue to instantly detect the vampires in their midst. They liked it. Hooked up a bunch of places. Never saw one cent myself, though. Should've signed a contract before I opened my mouth. But like I said, I didn't get in this for the money."

"Of course not. You're into demons purely for knowledge, enlightenment, and to help your fellow man," Buffy replied sarcastically.

"I've never claimed I do this out of the goodness of my heart. There's plenty of self-interest, and ego, in me. Knowledge is power. To know something no one else in the world knows, to be the first in the world to discover something, that's like a gold medal or a Super Bowl or an Oscar. Just like anybody else, I take a certain amount of selfish pride in my achievements."

"So that's what this is? Taking pride in showing off your knowledge to us?," Buffy asked pointedly.

"In part, yes. But that's not the main reason. After all, I wouldn't have spent months trying to earn your trust while getting accused of being a mad scientist if I was doing this out of ego. I'm here on behalf of others. The Counter-Council keeps bugging me about reaching out to you. They think the one who will destroy the Council. Not directly, but by proving the organization's irrelevant. There are two living Slayers, and the Council has control over neither. Without anyone to watch, a Watcher's Council lacks a reason for being."

"Great. Just what I need. More people I've never even met putting more responsibilities on my shoulders."

"It's like they expect you to do anything except what you're already doing. The one they want is Giles. He won't talk to them. Doesn't trust them for various ethical reasons. The Counter-Council wants to find and train the dozen-or-so uncalled Slayers they think are out there. But they can't. Not without the magics to find them. All these guys were expelled before they advanced far enough up the hierarchy to learn those special secrets. Once they can call all those Slayers, the Council will be discredited. Slayers won't have to die as a matter of policy. It'll a whole new world."

"You make it all sound so deceptively easy."

"I'm sure it won't be easy convincing girls to risk their lives when they know they're not the only one. There's also the unsettling long-term possibility of gene therapy to make even more Slayers. Or getting sperm and egg from a man and a woman who are carriers of the Slayer gene and making dozens of Slayer Sisters in vitro. There's always a dark side."

"Like cloning vampires."

"Okay. Point taken. But it's one thing to experiment on demons, and another thing entirely to do the same with human beings. I do draw lines. Hard as that may be for some of your to believe at the moment."


	3. Boys' night out, girls' night in

Things change after Willow spends the night with her new girlfriend. Patrick stumbles upon a potential apocalypse, and wants to help Buffy avert it.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 2003

Xander stood in the Bronze, looking around at nothing in particular. "Hey there, Xandy" he heard Zooey say from behind, right before she slapped his butt. He jumped, startled, but pleasantly startled, and turned around.

"Zooey! How wonderful it is to see you."

"Whats with the solo act?"

"Elise had to work on a story tonight, so she couldnt make it."

"You seen Willow?"

"No. Not tonight. Not yet anyway."

"Guess shes running a little late. See ya round Xandy." Zooey walked away. Xander took a few deep breaths. Zooey always had a way of making his heart race. And she gave every indication that she knew this and thoroughly enjoyed having this effect on Xander.

A few minutes later, Willow arrived. Zooey was equal parts relieved, delighted, and nervous. This was their first real date. She wasnt the only one who wa nervous. "Your hair," Willow began. "Its different. Its - "

"A lot less purple. Sometimes I get bored and change like that."

"I like it. And I like the changing. Its like something new all the time."

"I think I could try any color, except for that sunset red-orange you have, cause you do that one perfectly, and whats the point of competing with perfection?"

"Wowie," Willow gasped. She was also nervous. It was her first real date since Tara.

Zooey tried more small talk. "You look good, really good. Pants are nice. They new?"

"Oh, these? No. Got them like three years ago."

"Just hadnt seen you in leather before. I feel sorta silly for wearing the same thing."

"Dont. You look great. And besides, yours are different. Theyre darker, shinier, and, well, tighter. Besides, one might say it makes us look more like a couple." Zooey smiled.

Xander watched a young gentleman watch Zooey and Willow. He was about an inch shorter than Xander, skinny, with sideburns and black hair which was fashionably unkept. The sort of careless look it can take an hour to put together if you dont know what youre doing. But he did. Xander approached the stranger.

"Quite the couple, huh," Xander said.

"Zooey knows how to pick em."

"You know Zooey?"

"Used to date her. You?"

"Im best friends with Willow. The woman Zooeys with. The three of us, weve hung out some. Zooeys a real cool, fun, exciting girl."

"Sure was."

Zooey saw the two men talking. "Arent they an adorable couple," she asked, pointing Willows head in that. "What do you think of the guy Xanders with?"

"Hes cute. Kinda sexy, if youre into that kind. But hes definitely not Xanders type."

"Hes Zach."

"Your Zach! The Zack? Old boyfriend Zach?"

"Only boyfriend Zach. Only man I ever loved. God, he still looks good when hes moping." She took Willow by the hand and walked over. Zach and Xander were taken aback by Zooeys brazenness.

"Its a shame to see the two hottest guys in this place going it alone. Hafta wonder whats wrong with the girls in this town."

"Well Zo, I cant speak for Xander, but maybe our standards are just a little too high for our own good."

"Yeah Zachy. Apparently some things dont change." Zooey notices the uncomfortable silence shes plunged everyone into. "Ooh, where are my manners. Willow, this is Zach. I think the rest of us are already acquainted."

"Zach and I were just having a chat," Xander said to break the impasse. "Over what we have in common."

"Me," Zooey joked.

Xander laughed. "Ive never had you."

"Pity," Zooey responded playfully. "But I just realized something funny. The four of us, we could pair off in any possible permutation, and wed still make two great couples. Course that all depends on how adventurous Xandy and Zachy are. From across the room, you looked so right for each other." Xander and Graham looked away from each other nervously. "Kidding guys! Es un chiste!" Then she whispered to Xander. "After all, if I was serious Elise would have my head. Speaking of couples, lets dance. I take Zach, you take Xand?" Zooey took Grahams hand and went off. Xander and Willow shrugged and danced together.

"Shes quite the firecracker," Xander began.

"More like an M-80. But I could use a little explosiveness in my life. Of the non-magical variety."

"Hows it going with you two?"

"Great. I think were at that awkward stage where we want to rip each others clothes off but cant cause were in a public place."

"I for one wouldnt make a fuss."

"Thats sweet. No wait, thats sick. But in a nice, Id slap anyone who said that if he wasnt Xander Harris kind of way. So whats the deal with you and Zachy?"

"Nothing. Just two guys unlucky at love."

Zooey sidled up close to Zach. "You look good. I mean that."

"You look great Zooey. Ive seen you, with your new band. You guys are solid. Girls really seem to dig that Spike guy."

"I still think he could learn a thing or two from you in the getting girls going department. Remember the first time I saw you?"

"You ran up to me after the set and said, you guys suck. Maybe you wont suck if you let me join your band. Didnt seem too blown away."

"It wasnt your music I was blown away by. Thats what made it so perfect. I wanted you, and you needed me."

"You always had that confidence. Even when you were shy and self-conscious and worried about fitting in. Now youre this force of nature."

"You had a lot to do with that, Zach. You brought me out of my shell. Have I ever thanked you for changing my life?

"I think you tried to, but I wasnt paying attention."

"Are you apologizing to me, or to yourself?"

"It wasnt meant to be. Even if I didnt ruin things, sooner or later you would have found yourself."

"And left you for another woman? Wouldnt have needed to. Loves a monopoly. Its not like I wouldve needed to start looking around. Its not like you didnt satisfy me." Graham struggled to maintain his composure.

"Just out of curiosity, when did you get over me?"

"That August. After Wendy and Kaitlin. Round the time I met Elise."

"But Elise Campbells straight. Isnt she?"

"And dating Xander."

"Then whys he so glum?"

"Fear of failure. Boy left a woman at the altar and feels a little gunshy."

"Ouch. And I thought I had some painfuly breakups."

"Anyway, what I meant was after meeting Elise and joining her band, I started getting groupies of my own. So yours didnt make me jealous. I realized I could have plenty of fun without you."

"Funs not the same thing as love."

"Youre damn right about that one, Z. I stopped loving you, but couldnt find anybody new to love. Until Willow."

Graham looked over at Willow. "So shes the one?" He laughed. "I mean shes the fiftieth, or one-hundredth, but shes the one?"

"Gosh Z, you make it sound like Im the lesbian Wilt Chamberlain," she joked about Zachs exaggeration. "Willow makes me crazy. Like you once did."

Xander looked over at Graham and Zooey. "Dont they seem a little too chummy for exes," Xander asked about Zach and Zo, whose bodies were pressed together.

"Shes just toying with him. Its obvious shes faking. Cause when Zooey really gets turned on, she gets this look. This burning hunger." Xander thought he needed a cold drink. "She doesnt have that look," Willow adds dismissively.

"So thats fake friendly. I cant imagine what real friendly looks like. Cause fake friendly would turn me into silly putty. And, while were on the subject, why cant she give me fake friendly like that?"

"Cause Elise would get jealous."

"Of course. Elise friendly is more than enough friendly for me. Shes great. Uses words real well. Not that other women Ive known havent been language proficient. But shes so clever. And witty. Elise makes me feel like a real grownup. I dont know why, but theres something sexy about that."

"Maybe its cause shes the first woman whos never seen you without a steady job. She only knows responsible Xander."

Xanders mind wondered back to Zooey. "So when was the first time Zooey gave you real friendly? I mean the look."

"Couple days after we met. Ive been getting it for three months. Thats why I know it so well."

"And yet youve resisted. That must require some sort of superhuman Willow will power."

"Its been tough. There were moments when I lost my resistance. But Zooey was careful not to take advantage of me."

"Okay, so youre both exerting will power far beyond anything I could ever be capable of. I think weve known for a while how lousy I can be at resisting you. Who could forget - "

"That other dance we had? Right. But thats why Ive stopped resisting. Zooey. Not you. I mean, Im over you. No offense."

"None taken. And of course Im long over you. No offense."

"My point is, there comes a time when you have to give in." The music stopped. Both couples let go of each other. Zooey walked over to Willow. Zach stood for a few seconds, looking at the floor, recovering his composure. Xander left for home.

"Sorry about that, Willow. I just wanted to teach Zach a lesson."

"That youre irresistible? Ive already had that lesson." There were a few seconds of silence.

"So then. What do we do know," Zooey asked.

"Well . . . we could, um - "

"Willow, do you want to - "

"Go back to your place?"

"Youre already finishing my sentences. Thats a good sign." They went back to Zooeys apartment. Zooey was still a little nervous.

"So here we are. Willow, I love you, and I dont want us to do anything youre not comfortable with. So if you want to take it slow, I understand. Its up to you. Whatever you want." After a few seconds of suspenseful buildup, Willow pounced on Zooey.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 2003

8:30 AM. Xander was getting ready for work. The phone rang. It was Buffy.

"Willow didnt come home last night. Did something bad happen?" Xander laughed.

"Quite the contrary. I think she spent the night at Zooeys."

"Oh. Ooooh. Good for Willow. Guess that whole relationship ship set sail after all. This town being what it is, people dont come home, I assume the worst."

"Its understandable, Buffy. Otherwise, is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Dawns at school. I got work in a few hours. Everythings good. And Im happy for Willow. She seems to really like Zooey. What do you think of her?"

"Zooey? Shes great. Lots of fun to be around. Rather flirty, but thats a big part of the fun. Have you met her?"

"Once. Earlier this week at the Pump. Shes definitely flirty."

"With you?"

"I think so." Xanders face brightened when he heard this. Zooey pretending to hit on Buffy was something he had to see. "Kind of freaked me out at first. Shes quite the pistol. But I think its just her way of being friendly."

"Zooeys real good with the friendly."

An hour later, Zooey woke up. The bed was empty. Willow was gone. Zooey checked the bathroom, the kitchen. Nothing. The place was empty. It felt so lonely, so cold. She showered, got dressed, went to Buffys, where she knew Willow lived. She rang the doorbell. Buffy answered.

"Zooey?"

"Oh, you remember me. Good. Buffy, have you seen Willow?"

"I thought she was with you."

"She was. But this morning, she wasnt. So I just was wondering if she came back here."

"No. Havent seen her."

"Do you know where shed be?"

"She has a 9:30 class on Thursdays. Shes probably there."

"Oh. Okay. Makes sense. Sorry to bother you."

"No bother. Ill tell her you stopped by." Buffy didnt know what to make of the visit. Zooey seemed a little paranoid. She checked the police blotter and obits as usual. Another disappearance the previous night. That made four since Monday. Four people gone, but no bodies as of yet. Buffy went off to work a little before ten.

That afternoon, Catherine was all set to leave. "Why are you doing this mom," Amy asked. "Whats the point of running?"

"Its not running. Its escaping. I should have done this a long time ago. You deserved better than to grow up in this place. Sunnydales as boring as Mayberry and as deadly as South Central. Where else can you find such a crummy combination? This isnt a place to live. Its a place to die."

"But where are we going?"

"Ive looked up some business opportunities in Santa Fe, Tuscon, San Antonio. Santa Fe should be fun. You can go to school there."

"And I bet thered be lot of wiccans I can make friends with." Catherine shook her head.

"Amy, I dont understand your generation. You think magics a hobby, a social activity, like Girl Scouts or 4-H. Its not. Its about power. And you cant wield great power unless you use magic in secret. Thats the main reason Im leaving here. My covers blown. At the very least, dont let the other witches know how powerful you are. A lady has to preserve some mystery."

Around noon, Patrick ran up to Buffys door. His t-shirt was soaked in sweat. He rang the doorbell a few times. No answer. No cars in the driveway. So probably no one was home. He jogged away. He would come back and tell her the news that evening, when he had more information.

Patrick Gugan was born in 1974 in Modesto, California. He majored in Biology at UCLA, and graduated in 1996 at the top of his department. When he came to UCLA in 1992, his freshman year roommate was from Sunnydale. He told Patrick strange tales about his town. At first Patrick thought his roommate was trying to pull his leg with these monster stories. But over time he came to suspect his roommate was telling the truth. In the summer of 1995, he took a job as a lab assistant at UC-Sunnydale. What he saw around town astonished him. He was accepted at Stanford, Cal Tech, all the premiere graduate programs. But he inexplicably settled for Sunnydale. He wanted to study life, and Sunnydale possessed forms of life no scientist had ever studied.

In the Summer of 1998, after passing his generals, he took a position as a lab assistant at Cambridge, England. He had learned about the Watchers Council, and wanted to get close to them, maybe even work for them in an advisory capacity. He befriended scientists who, like Patrick, did clandestine work in that field. From them he learned that the Council no longer had any scientists. He learned about the battle within the organization, and about the purges. This was his introduction to the Counter-Council. At first they were distrustful of the upstart American. But Patrick quickly impressed them with the depth and breadth of his research. They realized the curious could be of much use to them.

Willow came home around 5:30. There were two messages on the answering machine for her from Zooey. Around 5:40, the doorbell rang. Guess who it was?

"Hey Willow. I saw your car, so I thought youd be home. Is everything alright? I mean, is everything alright with us?"

"Of course. Why wouldnt it be?"

"You werent there when I woke up. So I got worried. Thought maybe you were upset, or disappointed."

"Disappointed? Oh no. Absolutely not. Last night was great. Spectacular, actually. I had an early class. Thats why I left."

"You didnt wake me up to say goodbye. That wouldve been nice."

"I tried. But you were sleeping so soundly. Im sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"Its okay. I dont mean to get all crazy and freak you out."

"Youre not freaking me out. But you do seem a whole lot more jumpy than usual. And Ive never seen you so insecure. Are you mad at me?"

"No. No. Its just, Im no good at this love thing. It makes me go a little crazy. I get so scared that you dont feel about me the way I feel about you. I wake up, and youre not in my arms, and I assume the worst. I dont want this to be a one-night stand. Not with you. You mean so much more to me than that."

"Its not, Zooey. I love being with you. I love how you make me feel. And next time, Ill be there when you open your eyes. I promise." Zooey looked relieved. Her fears appeared to have been proven unfounded.

"Im sorry I got all bugged out."

"Dont sweat it. I kinda like how you get all passionate and worked up over me." Zooeys usual confident grin returned. She grabbed Willow from behind. Willow laughed.

"Your hair," Zooey said. "It smells like . . . did you use my shampoo?"

"Not as if I had much of a choice." Willow and Zooey were enjoying their moment in the hallway when Buffy entered. They quickly separated when they saw her.

"Dont mind me. Ill just go on into the kitchen and do something loud."

"We were just talking. I was about to leave," Zooey told Buffy. She looked at Willow, unsure of what was appropriate. Willow kissed her. Zooey grabbed Willow. For a moment Willow was about to pull back, then didnt. A few seconds later Zooey let go and moved to the door. "You free tomorrow night?"

"Absolutely," Willow answered. "Ill call you." Zooey left.

"You two seem blissfully mirthful," Buffy said. "Im glad for you. By the way, Zooey came by this morning looking for you. She acted worried. But I guess everythings okay now."

"I guess," Willow responded dubiously. A few minutes later Xander entered.

"I read about the disappearances and thought we might convene the Scooby Gang to figure out whats causing it."

"Yeah, Ive been thinking about that myself," Buffy said.

"So did I miss anything," Xander asked.

"Nothing much," Buffy replied. "A moment ago Zooey and Willow were making out in the front hallway."

"Buffy please! We werent making out."

"Sorry. Sucking face."

"Oh come on, Buffy! It was just a little goodbye kiss. No need to be all vulgar about it."

"I knew I should have come here straight from work," Xander joked.

"I think you did enough ogling of the two of us last night with your new guy pal," Willow joked back.

"Hey, there was no ogle. Not from me. Zach was the ogler."

"Whos Zach," Buffy asked. "Didnt know you picked up men at the Bronze."

"Very funny. Zachs Zooeys ex. He needed a shoulder to cry on. Except, of course, there was no crying whatsoever. Point is youre a very lucky woman, Willow. And Zooeys lucky too, which goes without saying, cept I just said it."

"Xander, thats sweet," Willow replied. "So instead of ogling lesbians you two manly men were baring your souls to each other?"

"Whats this about Zooey having a boyfriend," Buffy asked.

"That was back in high school," Willow explained. "She says she bi, that shed like men if she could find the right one. I mean, if she hadnt found me first. Weird thing is she says Im bi."

"What would possibly cause her to say that," Xander asked curiously.

"I dont know. Nothing. Shes projecting. Based on her own experience. Zooey thinks you dont just stop liking guys the day you start liking girls, unless you never really liked guys to begin with. Its her little pet theory. I think she was just messing with my head. It was back when we were just friends, and part of a convoluted way to get me to admit I found her sexy."

"Of course, the devils advocate tactic," Buffy realized. "Makes sense."

"No it doesnt," Xander dissented. "The woman resorts to stratagems to get people to reveal the obvious?"

The three of them sat down in the dining room. Willow pulled out her laptop to do some research on the disappearances. As she failed to find any good leads, her thoughts shifted back to Zooey. "Guys, can I tell you something, about Zooey?"

"Of course," Xander eagerly replied.

"Today, she seemed different. She left several messages. Dropped by here twice. Shes gotten kinda clingy."

Buffy knew what was up. "All because you werent in her bed when she woke up. Spending the night meant something special to her, and she isnt sure you feel the same way. Sound familiar?"

"Omigod. Im a guy! No wait, Im worse. Im Parker!"

"What the hell are you two talking about," Xander asked, fearful of where this conversation was going.

Buffy tried to empathize. "I know what Zooeys going through. You spend the night with someone, you wake up alone, and you freak. But tonight she was all over you and smiling and laughing. So problem solved."

"I hope so. And she wasnt all over me. We were just being playful, yet restrained. Nothing unseemly."

Buffy thought of a paradox. "I have to say, Zooey didnt strike me as the type to get all wigged out after one night together. Thats what you do when youre inexperienced. And I dont mean this the wrong way, but Zooey seems - "

"Oh yeah. And she doesnt try to hide it. Zooeys probably had more women than any guy, any non-immortal guy, I know. One morning, before we started dating, I dropped by her apartment. We start talking, and this knockout steps out of the shower. This total babe comes up to Zooey, tells her how great last night was, gives her a big kiss, and Zooey couldnt even remember her name!"

"Is it getting hot in here," Xander asked. "Maybe I should turn on the air conditioner."

"Very funny Xander. My point is, youre right, Buffy. Zooeys no ingenue. Shes the last person Id expect to feel insecure afterwards. Especially considering how monumentally great she was. Spectacular would be an understatement. The things that woman knows how to do."

"Okay, we get the point," Buffy interrupted, a little grossed out. Xander restraieds himself from asking about details.

"I just dont know whats up with her," Willow concluded.

Buffy continued pressing her previous theory. "Does she love you? Has she told you that?"

"Only every time she sees me. And its not just that. She says Im the only woman shes EVER loved. Hold on, thats it! I just need to let her know how much she means to me. She just needs a little positive feedback. That wont be hard to give her. Thanks Buffy. You were very incisive."

"And what about me," Xander asked, feeling left out.

"Well Xander, your zealous leering reminds me how lucky I am to have a woman like Zooey. Youre kind of like the studio audience, except youre part of the show. Like Greek Chorus. Except youre not Greek, theres only one of you and you hardly ever sing. But you really need to go out more with Elise so you dont have to subsist on vicarious smoochies."

"You make it sound like Im parasitic. Im just curious. I seek knowledge." Speaking which, there was a knock at the door. It was Patrick, carrying lots of papers.

"Glad youre all here," he says as he enters uninvited. "I take it youve noticed the recent disappearances. Im pretty positive Ive discovered the culprit."

"Demon or vampire," Buffy asked.

"Vampires. But a rare and special kind. The Order of Mausolus. Its a kind of secret society which gives its initiates special powers. Superficially theyre a lot like the Freemasons, except theyre evil."

"I thought the Freemasons were evil," Willow joked.

"Unlike the Masons, these guys really do have mystical powers. Like being able to re-sire existing vampires and make them more powerful."

"So these are super-strong vampires," Buffy asked.

"Its a different sort of power. The power to transcend corporeal form, to ascend to a greater reality. They believe the physical realm, and physical desires, are petty and trivial. They scorn normal vampires. Theyre very exclusive about who can enter their little club, so they are supposed to be very few in number, which is good from our point of view. When a vampire proves himself worthy, he is initiated resired or reborn as they say and becomes a member of the First Degree. Each time he is resired, he ascends to a higher degree. There are Nine Degrees in total. The leader, I think I read somewhere his name is Manu, is the only one who has attained the Ninth Degree. Supposedly, he possesses the ability to disappear at will."

"No problem. Ive fought invisible things before."

"Not invisible. Incorporeal. Nothings there. No physical form. Try to kill him, he just vanishes."

"No biggie. Dracula did that. I took care of him."

"Dracula was here! When? Forget it. Wait. I thought Dracula turns himself into a mist."

"Right. Music video dry ice," Buffy recalled. "So tacky in a mid-80s sort of way."

"But you could see the mist, right? You knew where Dracula was going to reappear. Manu is different. He disappears and reappears without warning. He can also make certain parts of his body temporarily vanish. You stake him, the center of his chest goes poof! Try to behead him, his necks gone. But the rest of hims still there." He shows them the material hes downloaded. "And when hes formless, he can travel in the daytime, since theres nothing for the sun to burn."

"And Mister Poofys come here to kill me," Buffy asked insouciantly.

"Doubtful. To kill, to feed, to hurt, he must assume bodily form. And when he does, he can be killed. And killings a very visceral, physical act. Something the unworthy common vampires enjoy. It would go against his philosophy."

"So hes a non-violent vampire," Willow asked incredulously.

"Hes very violent. But in a secretive, Secret Society way. He doesnt like to draw attention to himself or his Order. If hes come here, to the Hellmouth, its cause he wants to pull off something big. I know this sounds crazy, maybe a little self-important and melodramatic, but he may want to end the world."

"Finally, something familiar we know how to deal with," Buffy responded.

Patrick was shocked. "Excuse me? Youve done this sort of thing often?"

"On a fairly regular basis since I moved here."

"How many times?"

"Hard to count," Willow answered. "Thereve been so many."

Patrick didnt like the sound of this. "This is why I didnt want to get to know you guys. Endangering my life, thats scary enough. But a wholesale existential crisis, thats just too much."

"Welcome to the Scooby Gang," Xander told Patrick.

He looked confused. "Whos Scooby?"

"We never really thought of it that literally," Willow replied.

"And do you even have a van?"

Willow thought of something. "Maybe Oz was Scooby. I mean he, was a werewolf. And he had the van. Course Oz never did get along with you, Xander, so there goes that comparison."

"And they only fought fake monsters. That was the whole point!"

"Its just a whimsical metaphor," Xander explained to the genius who thinks things through too much.

Patrick considered this. "I guess it works in a self-deprecating and highly ironic way. Shows you dont take yourselves too seriously, even though you, apparently, carry the world on your shoulders. How do you handle the pressure?"

"It helps to take it one apocalypse at a time," Buffy advised. "But why the massive wiggins? You seem pretty familiar with vampires and demons. Youve captured deadly and dangerous creatures. Youre not exactly new to this world."

"Demons dont scare me. Theyre animals. Humans can use their brains and their tools to kill them, just like any other animal. But the idea of existence not existing. Its like the difference between World War II and World War III. When your lifes at risk, youre scared. But when the survival of the planet is at stake, thats a whole other level of fear. And responsibility."

Buffy tried to end his bellyaching. "Look, if you want to help, you gotta learn to deal. First off, how do you know these Mausolus vamps are in town?"

"I was out jogging this morning and stumbled upon a temple that used to not be there. It had glyphs and symbols carved on it. I went home, got a camera, and took some pictures. Then I scanned them in to my computer, and Im trying to decipher them. From what I found on the web, it looks a lot like Mausolus."

"And how do you know theyre responsible for the missing persons?"

"Their Initiation requires the blood of an innocent. The missing persons are 14, 13, 6 and 4 years of age. The teenagers would suffice for a lower lever Initiations, one of the first three degrees. The children would be used in for the middle degrees, 4 through 6. For the high degrees, a baby would be required. For the Ninth Degree, a newborn."

"So then we should check the hospital, keep watch," Buffy suggested.

Patrick disagreed. "It would probably be a waste of time. Plus, when I say newborn, I mean like a minute after its born. So the babes in the maternity ward arent fresh enough. Before you attempt anything we need more information."

"You need to show me where this temple is," Buffy proposed.

"I was planning on taking you there tomorrow morning."

"I was planning on seeing it tonight."

"Tonight? But theyre vampires. In the daytime, wed have the run of the grounds, and they couldnt touch us. At night theyre probably guarding the property."

"Yes, well, theyre vampires, and Im a Vampire Slayer."

"Granted, theres a certain undeniable logic there. But I dont want to walk into a potential trap. We need to know more."

"And well find it there." Buffy stood up. Patrick quickly relented, since of course he really had no say in the matter. Buffy and Willow each took a crossbow. Xander took an ax. He asked Patrick if he wanted a weapon.

"No point getting weighed down by heavy weapons I dont know how to use," he answered. "I got this." he pulled out a stun gun. "and this." It was a plastic baretta.

"Thats a toy gun," Xander observed.

"Squirt gun filled with holy water. Very efficient vampire repellant."

"That is so cool," Xander exclaimed. "Holy water! Why didnt I ever think of that?"

"It drives them away. But it doesnt kill them. Perfect for protection. But pointless for slaying."

"Like mace. For vampires," Buffy commented.

"Something like that," Patrick responded. "Its a good way to keep safe at night in this town."


	4. Why would vampires build a temple?

Dawn was out walking with Elijah. "You really don't see anything wrong with strolling through a cemetery at night," Dawn asked him.

"Should I be afraid of ghosts attacking me?"

"Ghosts aren't what I'm worried about." Elijah was on Dawn's left. She tore a branch from a tree with her right hand and held the makeshift stake behind her back. "Do you do this a lot?"

"Occasionally, every now and then. It's a nice quiet place to think. The white marble glistens in the moonlight. Gravestones look like hundreds of little stars fallen to earth. And they all tell a story. Families, three and four generations, buried together. Some die old. Some die young. You wonder about the young ones, why they went so soon. For instance, why so many here didn't live to see 30."

"And you've never encountered anyone, anything, at night, out here?"

"Couple times some kids came through. Other than that, nothing." Dawn found this very strange. Just then a vampire leaped at her carelessly from the right. She staked it in midair.

"Did you hear something," Elijah asked Dawn.

"Nope."

"Probably just the wind. You seem nervous. You're not scared being out in a graveyard at night, are you?"

"I'm not the one who should be scared."

"Okay then. Wanna play it spooky, be my guest. But the last thing I'm scared of is the dead." Just then a vampire leaped at Elijah, knocking him on his back. The vampire held him down and prepared to bite him. Dawn kicked the vampire twice in the chest. It rolled off Elijah. Before it could stand up, Dawn kicked it in the face. The vampire fell back, then stood up and faced Dawn. The vampire charged. She threw it to the ground and staked it. She dropped the stake and went over to Elijah.

"Elijah, are you alright?" The dazed boy stood up before she could help him to his feet.

"I'm fine. No problem here. Just a little frazelled by the sudden takedown. What was wrong with that guy?"

"It was nothing. I scared him away."

"Maybe you're right. Maybe we should go someplace else. Indoors perhaps."

Patrick, Willow and Xander looked through the books at the Magic Box. "These things are horribly indexed. I'm amazed you find anything," Patrick muttered.

"Found anything," Buffy asked.

"I have," Patrick replied. But it's nothing I don't know already," he added snobbily.

"I found something new," Xander said. "I'm sure it won't help us, and I wish now I hadn't read it. It says these Mausolus guys turn themselves into eunuchs."

"Only those belonging to the Higher Degrees," Patrick explained. "The rest just take vows of celibacy. All part of their goal of transcending the physical."

"I see why most vamps steer clear of this cult," Xander joked.

"So should we be on the on the lookout for vampires with really high, squeaky voices," Willow asked Patrick.

"Vampires don't produce testosterone, or any other endocrine hormone, so it wouldn't affect their vocal chords. So how do you have access to this place?"

"Our friend Anya owns the store," Buffy explains, stretching the meaning of friend in her case. "There's a training room and some weapons in back."

"So the store's basically a front for your operation," Patrick concluded.

Xander felt insulted. "A front? What do you think we are, the mob?"

"I don't mean to sound pejorative. But it makes perfect sense. You have weapons, magical supplies, ample research materials, and you can use it to make money to fund Buffy's mission."

"Fund Buffy," Buffy asked. "No, this place only funds Anya. It's her store. She's very big about that. It used to be my Watcher's, but the he left town and - "

"Anya's not the sharing type, when it comes to the money," Willow added. "Sharing would seem uncapitalist and therefore evil to her."

Patrick had an idea. "Doesn't have to seem uncapitalist. Buffy, you could always charge her insurance. I'm aware of the short life expectancy of those who own this store. I also know the entrance used to be half-a-story below ground and then it was street-level and no one noticed the change, but that's another matter. My point is, no owner of this store has died in two-and-a-half years, which must be something of a record. I assume that's because of you, Buffy."

"Are you suggesting Buffy set up a protection racket," Willow asked.

"Okay, you are saying we should be like the mob," Xander realized.

"I'm joking," Patrick responded. "After all, if you charged Anya insurance, she could charge you rent for using the training room. And all that would seem unseemly between friends. I'm just having fun letting my mind wonder while I search for something valuable. And I think I've found it."

"Found what," Buffy asked.

"Possibly the reason why they're here. Before the endtime can begin, the Temple must be rebuilt. That's happened. Then a second Ninth Degree Master must be created. The ceremony must require two people."

"You need to show me where they are," Buffy ordered.

That evening, Anya was with Sterling, having dinner at Aiden and Kamillah's house. It was a large, expensively-furnished home, and Anya liked what she saw. "I must tell you two, I'm very impressed with the decor."

"You should compliment Kamillah," Aiden said. "She picked it all out. And paid for most of it."

"What is it you do for a living," Anya asked Kamillah.

"I'm a lawyer."

"Neat. I like lawyers," Anya responded.

"Don't hear that one very often," Kamillah quipped.

"You make money hurting bad people. I have great respect for that." In Anya's mind, lawyers made piles of money exacting vengeance. Plus, they knew the rules everyone had to live by, and this knowledge gave them power.

"Actually, most of the big money's made helping bad people," Kamillah noted.

"That's not what you do, is it?"

"No, I help good people and occasionally try to hurt bad people. Not that I'm tilting at windmills and crusading for righteousness. I'm not that naive. But I try to balance making money and making a difference. Otherwise, what's the point?"

"I get it," Anya responded. "Making money isn't enough. There's also power. As a lawyer, you have power. And you feel a need to use that power to help the powerless."

"That's an interesting way of looking at it," Kamillah commented.

"Makes writing briefs and reading footnotes to appellate decisions almost sound exciting," Aiden joked.

"Like any legit job's exciting," Sterling added. "They're all a grind after a while. That's why it's called work."

"The roofing business not agreeing with you," Aiden asked.

"No. It's fine, as work goes. I'm outside, I'm actually building things, I like the guys I work with. So it's cool. But it's not like we sing Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it's off to work we go' as we do it. Who does?"

"Well, there was that one day . . . oh, never mind," Anya replied. "Did I tell you what a lovely house you have? And in such a charming locale."

"You should see my neighborhood," Sterling proposed. "It's in Oceanside. Actually, it is oceanside, right on the beach. The house isn't much, just a bungalow, or more accurately a shack. But the view's great."

"By the way, I've been meaning to ask you guys something. Last week I met this teenager who claimed he's played with the two of you. Little guy, blonde, easily impresed. Said his name was Elijah."

"Yeah we know Eli," Aidan said. Anya was surprised.

"Used to play with him sometimes until he outgrew us," Sterling added. Anya was even more surprised.

"But he's just a kid."

"Physically, yes. Musically, no," Aiden explained. "He's like some prodigy. We did some improv stuff with him, stretch out, see where the music takes us. The sort of experimental stuff you don't do onstage. But after a while we could barely keep up. All these modalities, polyrhythms, cross-rhythms, chord changes ever measure, wacky 13/16 time signatures. We're not at that level. He has that whole jazz background. We're just not that sophisticated."

"Great kid, though," Sterling commented. "Real nice."

"And he buys a lot of stuff at my store," Aiden added. "Helps keep me in business."

Dawn and Elijah were back at the Summers house. Elijah was going through a stack of records on the living room floor next to the television. "Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, Nick Drake. Patti Smith! Someone in this family has great taste in music."

"Those were my mom's records."

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up. You must miss her. My father died before I had the chance to know him. But for you, it was different." He sat down on the couch next to Dawn.

"I didn't know that about your father. What happened?"

"Car accident. When I was two. Back when we lived in Portland. Mom remarried when I was eight. We moved here when I was ten."

"How did you handle the new man in your mom's life? Had to be rough."

"We have an understanding. He doesn't pretend to be my father, I don't pretend to love him. We have a chilly but stable entente. Could have been worse. They could have had kids together. Then I would have really been on the outside. Good thing Sunnydale has a one-child policy."

"What do mean by that?"

"Haven't you noticed? Just about everyone in this town's an only child, you and your sister excepted. Look around."

Dawn thought about this. Janice, Brandon, both only children. Xander, Willow, same thing. If there were two siblings, chances were one of them wouldn't make it to adulthood. But Dawn didn't feel jinxed. She wasn't exactly Buffy's real sister. "I see your point," she told Elijah.

Patrick led Buffy, Willow and Xander to the temple and the mansion it was built near. "This is the house where Jonathan lived, when he cast that spell," Willow noted.

"Jonathan Levin," Patrick asked.

"You know him," Buffy asked.

"No. But I remember one day a kid with that name got a MacAuthur Genius Grant, and a few days later it was like he never existed. Was he a figment?"

"Actually, he's a real person," Buffy explained. "It was an idealization spell, made everyone think he was perfect for a time."

"Altering the very fabric of reality to get people to like you. Must've been as powerful as he was insecure. Dangerous combination. Now here's the temple." It was in a grove, shielded from the rest of the estate by a ring of trees. He took them around to its front. It was built with a mixture of gray and black stone. At its base, on all sides, were three white steps. "I believe there's a basement underneath the temple, and that's where they sleep. The mansion was completely deserted during the day. I think they only use it at night."

The temple was 20 feet tall, a little more than 30 feet wide, and a little more than 50 feet long. At the four corners were three-foot thick black pilasters. Black stone ran along the tops and bottoms, with gray stone in the middle, framed by the black stone. At the front of the temple were bronze double-doors, together about five feet in width. Along the top, above the black stone, were tri-glyphs and metopes, in the Doric style. On the metopes were carved friezes. There were 46 of them around the perimeter of the temple.

Patrick explained some more. "The height, width and length follow the Golden Ratio. And the carvings up top, they're full of Mausolus iconography. That was the giveaway. I'm trying to decipher them. I think they'll explain what these guys are going to do."

"Why would they advertise their plans like that," Xander asked.

"It's part of what they have to do. It makes the sanctuary theirs. To do its job, the Temple has to fit exacting specifications laid out thousands of years ago. Plus, they don't think anyone can stop them."

"So they don't know they're in my town," Buffy asked. "I thought these guys were big on the knowledge."

"They know the Slayer's in the neighborhood. They just don't think you can come to grips with them."

"Well we'll see about that. You said they're in the mansion at night. I'm going in to pay them a visit."

"I'm sure they have guards standing watch," Patrick predicted.

"Yes. And I'll kill them." Buffy walked out of the grove. She circled clockwise around the property, keeping near the tree covering to hide her presence. They were about 100 yards from the back of the mansion.

Xander pulled out his binoculars and took a look. "There's someone on the roof. I think he's got a gun."

Buffy had an idea. "Then I'll take him out."

"You can hit him from this range," Patrick asked.

"Probably not. I'll need to get closer. You and Xander create a diversion to distract him while I move within range."

"You want us to draw his fire," Patrick asked, rather worried. But Xander didn't seemed to be frightened. So he went along. They moved clockwise to the side of the building.

"You do this sort of thing often," Patrick asked.

"Buffy knows what she's doing. She won't let us get hurt." Then Patrick had an idea.

"I know how to distract him. Go away from me, try to get close to the building. I promise he won't notice you. Just keep you distance from me. Trust me. I know vampires. I know how to signal them." Xander didn't know what was up. But he got away from Patrick, and slowly approached the building. Patrick crouched behind a tree, pulled out a whistle, and started blowing. Xander couldn't hear anything. But he looked through his binoculars, and could see that the vampire heard Patrick. Xander moved closer and closer, and the vampire didn't even notice him. He got right of to the windows, and tried to see in.

Meanwhile, Buffy moved to within 40 yards. She aimed her crossbow. Willow stood behind her with a backup crossbow. Buffy fired. It hit the vampire in the chest, but didn't pierce his heart. He turned in Buffy's direction and fired his gun. Xander noticed it was unusually quiet. The shot missed. Willow handed Buffy the other crossbow. Buffy aimed. But the vampire fired first. The bullet glanced off Buffy's crossbow and hit Willow in the left side of her neck. Buffy fired. This shot hit its mark. The vampire tumbled off the roof and disintegrated in midair. All that hit the ground was dust.

Buffy turned around. Willow was grabbing her neck. "Willow were you hit?"

"I think so."

"We have to get you to a hospital."

"No, I'm fine. It's okay."

"You were shot with a bullet!"

"No. It felt more like . . . a b-b. See?" She showed Buffy her tiny wound. Xander and Patrick came over. Willow explained what had happened.

"I thought that sounded like a pellet gun," Xander replied. "I got to the windows, but I couldn't see through the curtains. By the way Patrick, how'd you distract the vampire?"

Patrick pulled out his whistle. "It's like a dog whistle, only a slightly different frequency. Only vampires with their super ears can hear it. I play a sort of bird call. Gets their attention."

"Glad you could be of use out in the field," Buffy told him. "Now that the guard's out of the way, I say we storm the place."

"But we don't even know how many of them are in there," Patrick argued.

"That's why we should go in and find out. It's a probing mission, not a fight to the death." Buffy approached the house. The others followed, Patrick rather reluctantly. Buffy and Willow reloaded their crossbows. "I fire. I go in. You three back me up. No heroics. Play it safe for now."

A vampire came running to Manu. "How dare you interrupt me at this most propitious moment," Manu bellowed.

"Master, I believe the Slayer has arrived. She's killed the sentry."

"Release the hounds."

Buffy and friends heard barking. Then they saw ten dogs racing towards them. "Are those supposed to be demon dogs," Xander asked.

Buffy didn't think so. "They look like non-demon dobermans to me."

"Non-demon. But still ferocious," Willow observed. "And they appear to be hungry."

"I'm not trained to fight doggies. Specially not this many doggies, with this meager an arsenal."

"Does that mean run away," Patrick asked.

"I think pull back and regroup is a more dignified term," Buffy answered. Patrick sprinted away. Willow and Xander followed. Buffy came last, in case she had to hold off the dobermans. As they ran away, the dobermans slowed. They didn't pursue into the forest, and hung by the edge of the lawn, barking loudly and ensuring that the intruders did not return.

"Besides, I don't know if it's right for me to kill doggies," Buffy wondered. "Even if they did want to rip me to shreds, and even if they appear to be owned by vampires, they're not demons."

"I'm surprised the dogs weren't out when I came during the day," Patrick noted.

"So next time we come prepared with an armload of t-bone steaks," Xander joked. "Maybe some nice juicy sausage links." They started walking away.

"You make it sound like the Temple's the heart of their operation," Buffy said to Patrick.

"That's where they're going to destroy the world."

"Then all we have to do is break into the Temple, or knock it down, and we win," Xander proposed.

"It's not that easy. There's two sets of thick bronze doors in front. The roof's wood, but overlaid with copper and topped with marble tile. And the stone walls are three feet thick."

"Say what you will about their philosophy, but these Mausolus vampires sure know construction," Xander quipped.

"You'd need some pretty heavy firepower to bust through all that," Patrick added.

"We have a rocket launcher," Xander noted. "Would that work?"

"No. The explosive charge is too small. It would barely make a dent. And did you say you have a rocket launcher? How and why did you acquire that?"

"I used it to kill the Judge," Buffy told Patrick. "They said no weapon forged could harm him, so I had to think outside the box."

"Actually, it was my idea," Xander noted proudly.

Patrick had heard of the Judge. "The demon who kills all creatures with souls? Someone reassembled him? Was it a vampire? Cause if it was, they'd have to be crazy."

"Two-for-two." Buffy answered.

Patrick was mystified. "That is so stupid. A vampire has the Judge vaporize all the humans, it destroy its own food supply. Makes no sense, even from the point-of-view of an evil soulless killer. Like cutting off your nose to spite your face. Course no one ever said vampires were bright creatures. But a rocket launcher! That's some nifty thinking. Sure didn't have those when the Mongols killed it the first time around."

"Excuse me. What do the Mongols have to do with this," Willow asked.

"It took an army," Xander said to himself. "It took the Mongol army?"

"I guess you guys don't know the whole story. Wizards working for the Teutonic Knights in 1241 built the Judge as a superweapon to defeat the Mongols at the Battle of Leignitz."

"But wouldn't it also have killed the Knights and everyone else around," Willow asked. "I mean, talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face."

"The Judge can only kill what is in front of it. The Germans stood behind the demon, and the Supreme Wizard controlled the creature to keep it from turning around and harming its creators. But the Mongols weren't fazed. They always came into battle were prepared for any eventuality, and sent one-hundred of their finest warriors to make quick work of the creature. 50 Mongols showered the demon with arrows to distract it, riding back and forth too fast for the Judge to target them. Covered by this diversion, 50 horsemen with lassos approached the Judge. Ten of them tied their lassos round each arm, ten round each leg, and ten round its head. They rode away in perfect synchronization, each group of ten in a different direction. The Judge was torn into six pieces.

"A battle ensued, and the Teutonic Knights and the rest of the German forces were annihilated. The anniversary of the battle is still celebrated in Poland. Not because the Judge was destroyed, but because the Germans got their asses kicked. After the battle, the Mongols tortured the wizards to find out what the Judge was. Then they killed the wizards and destroyed their records so no such creature could ever be built again. The six pieces of the Judge, its arms, legs, head and chest, were buried in the far corners of the vast Mongol empire."

"How bout that. So the Mongols really weren't so bad after all," Xander mused.

"The Judge did seem kind of stiff and serious and Teutonic," Willow remembered. "But how'd you learn all this stuff? We didn't find anything that exciting when we were doing research."

"Probably cause you only had access to the European sources. Just about every European who knew about the Judge died on that battlefield, so in Europe only the barest details survived. The good sources are all Chinese, compiled and preserved by the Chinese Watcher's Council. When they were absorbed into the London Council, they were shocked and appalled when that Council began destroying all their records. The London Council didn't want anyone to know there were once other Councils. When the Chinese Watchers realized this, they took what remained of their records and hid them away in remote monasteries. The material didn't become available in English until a few decades ago, and even today only a few people know about them. Fortunately, I know a few of those people."

"Lassos," Buffy asked. "They killed this thing by corralling it like some bull at the rodeo?"

"Rope isn't forged, and thus could harm him," Patrick responded. "I still don't know how you procured your heavy weaponry."

"I stole it from the local military base."

"From Camp Pendleton? How'd you pull THAT off?"

"There was a Halloween where we became our costumes, and I was dressed up as a soldier. So I became military guy, and gained all this inside knowledge."

"I remember that," Patrick replied. "I didn't dress up, so I didn't change. But a friend of mine went to a party as Albert Einstein, and afterwards he told me he was THIS close to proving General Relativity when he got changed back. To me, that's the craziest thing about this town. Not the demons, but the occasional mass hysteria. Demons are supposed to act nuts. Ordinary people acting nuts, that's something special. Odd how those things always pass before too many people get hurt."

Anya and Sterling went back to her place. "Sterl, are you growing tired of me?"

"Am I what! Why would you even think that?"

"You don't seem to want me the way you once did. It's been three nights since we've made love."

"You know I had that gig on Tuesday. And this morning I had to get up at five to make it to my job site in Riverside. So I couldn't stay over last night."

"Is something wrong with me? It's my hair isn't it? I knew you didn't like me going dark."

"Anya I love it. I think it's perfect for you. Brings out your luminescent eyes, your finely-sculpted cheekbones. And believe me when I say I could never tire of you. You don't think I also missed you these last two nights?" He put his arms around her waist and pulled her close. "Anya, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"So this is your plan? Sweet talk me and hold me in your arms, and I'm just going to swoon? Well I have news for you mister. I don't swoon. That said, I have been known on occasion to go a little wobbly in the knees while in close proximity to a gorgeous hunk of a man who desperately wants me, and would do anything to make me happy."

"You're talking about me, I hope."

"I'd like to think I was."

"Just checking." Then they kissed.

As they walked back, Patrick started chuckling. "What's so funny," Willow asked him.

"Nothing. Just thinking about Buffy's tactic of choice, the sudden charge. Impetuous, yet since you've survived this long, obviously very effective for you. It was the same way with Joan of Arc. Except for the surviving part, but that wasn't on the battlefield."

"Lousy, witch-burning men," Willow muttered.

"Think about it," Patrick told the gang. "Teenage girl. Small but powerful. Fierce fighter. Wounded often but always healed quickly. Thinks it's her destiny to save the world."

"Are you implying Joan of Arc was a Slayer," Willow asked.

"Noooo. Noooooo. You're joking. You're kidding, right," Buffy asked, excited but skeptical.

"Technically, no. She was never called by any Council, and she never slayed vampires. But like I said, most young women with Slayer Power are never called, and most never experience the enormous physical stress needed to discover their potential power. But imagine 16 year-old Joan, attacked by some English soldiers who are pillaging her village. She struggles, and fights for her life, and clobbers them. She can't believe her own strength. She realizes she's special, and wonders why. She's a religious girl, so the answer's obvious. God has given her this power for a reason. She is God's chosen instrument to drive away the English, who were sucking France dry like so many vampires. She thinks she's the Chosen One."

"Wow. First the Mongols fight the Judge and now Joan of Arc's a Slayer," Xander marveled. "History can be so not boring when you put demons and stuff in it."

"It would explain so much," Patrick continued. "Joan's confidence. Her refusal to cede command to any man. Her belief in her own innate superiority."

"Okay, yeah yeah, I get the similarities," Buffy muttered.

Patrick went on. "Her fearlessness in battle. Taking on and defeating much larger male opponents. Her charismatic ability to rally tens of thousands of demoralized, defeated men and turn them into victors."

"What man WOULDN'T risk his life to follow a Slayer into battle," Xander commented, perhaps referencing his own fearlessness when around Buffy.

"Just so you know, Xander, there was no likeness of Joan produced during her lifetime, so no one is sure what she looked like. All that's known is that she was short and petite and had short brown or black hair. And on account of being a Servant of God, she was a virgin, and the soldiers never looked at her in that way. Plus, it's hard for a lady to look comely when covered head-to-toe in armor."

"You think I'm having sex fantasies about Joan of Arc? Oh, please! I'm not. Really, I'm not. I mean it. I'm not."

"He really does protest too much," Patrick joked to Willow and Buffy.

Buffy and Willow came home. "Hey Dawny, what's up," Willow asked. "And who's this handsome fellow?"

"This is Elijah. We were just hanging out."

"I think I better go now," Elijah told Dawn.

"Don't be so quick to bolt," Buffy told him. "Relax. I hear you're a smart guy."

Elijah didn't know whether this was a compliment or a prelude to some sort of scolding. "I guess so."

"You skipped a grade, right?"

"Yeah. Sixth grade. But I don't like to make a big deal out of it. It's nothing, really."

"You're a musician."

"I play a few instruments. Saxophone, piano, some guitar. Mostly jazz. Some rock. I do have a rock band, but I'm not a wild, rocker kind of guy. Dawn's a very nice young woman. I respect her greatly. You don't have to worry about me trying anything untoward with her."

"Relax kiddo. I'm not here to give you the third degree."

"What courses do you take," Willow asked. "Any honors or APs?"

"AP Physics, AP Chem, Calculus BC, AP Government, AP English."

"Does Mrs. Renkin still teach Chem," Willow asked.

"Yep."

"Does she still wander into her office in the middle of lectures?"

"Oh yeah. And then there are the times she's writing a formula and runs out of space on the board and writes on the tile next to the blackboard."

"She did that when I was there. Guess she's still nutty as always."

"A little nuttiness helps keep you awake during second period."

"Don't I know it. Especially during the lectures on the synthesis of different benzene molecules."

"We haven't gotten to that yet. Something to look forward to sleeping through, I guess."

"Just remember. During the lab where you mix magnesium hydroxide with hydrochloric acid, it's .2 moles, not 2 moles of magnesium. Someone in my class made that mistake and nearly blew the room up."

"Well, with 2 moles, that's not surprising, considering all the hydrogen that would be released into the air. Good thing that student wasn't a smoker."

"Cause them kaboom," Willow said, laughing. Buffy and Dawn were feeling a little out of place.

"You must be Willow. Nice meeting you. And nice meeting you as well, Buffy. It's late. I should be going. I had fun tonight, Dawn. See you around."

"I had fun too, Elijah. It was nice talking to you. Have a good night."

"You too. Catch you later." Then he left.

"Okay, you two were going off on some nerd tangent that was utterly unintelligible to us normals. What was that all about, Buffy asked Willow."

"Sorry, but I couldn't help myself. He's so adorable."

"Definite cutie," Buffy added. "Especially for a brainiac."

"For the hundredth time, we're not dating. Elijah's my friend. That's all."

Willow didn't understand. "Come on Dawny, he seems perfect."

Buffy agreed. "Smart, sweet, cute, sensitive - is he sensitive?"

"Yes. Actually, he's very sensitive. And caring."

"See, he's perfect," Buffy reiterated. "I can't find a single thing wrong with him."

"He likes strolling through cemeteries at night."

"What," Buffy asked, stunned. "You mean he also kills vampires? That's even more perfect."

"He's never seen a vampire. Takes frequent nighttime walks through Sunnydale graveyards, cause he finds them peaceful. And he's never come across a single vampire. How's that possible?"

"I don't know," Buffy replied. "I really don't."

"We found some tonight. I killed two. One he didn't see. The other knocked him down and I killed it and saved him. I don't think he knew what it was. But he seemed sufficiently shaken not to hang around cemeteries ever again."

"It's always awkward when you have to save your boyfriend's life on the first date," Buffy recalled.

"He's not my boyfriend, it wasn't a date, and we've hung out before, so it wasn't really anything other than what we normally do together. Except when I saved his life, but he was real cool about that. He already suspected I could beat him up, so me defending him wasn't a blow to his manhood. Elijah's a great guy. But he's not my boyfriend."

"That's a pity," Buffy told Dawn. "Sweet, sensitive, smart, secure, cute, and comfortable with the slayage. Guys like that don't come along every day."

"I know. I already have one," Dawn replied archly. "I think this is the point when you tell me to go upstairs and do my homework. I'll save you the trouble." She went to her room.

"Girl's got attitude," Willow told Buffy.

"She spent so much time feeling sorry for herself, I never got around to teaching her that too much self-confidence can be a bad thing."

"She's changed so much. Ever since you-know-who. Course she still gets on your nerves the way a kid sister should."

"She went from whiny to catty, but she remains annoying."

"Same old Dawny."

"Maybe when she learns to lay off the attitude I'll tell her how proud I am of her. How's your neck doing?"

"Hardly even notice it."

"I should help you remove the pellet." They went to the upstairs bathroom. Buffy looked at the wound under the light. Couldn't see anything. She felt Willow's neck. No bump near the entry wound. No little metal bump at all. They concluded it must have bounced right off her skin upon impact.


	5. Just when things couldn't get any worse

Saving the world becomes far more complicated as Willow gets sick and a quadruple demon bears down on the town. Meanwhile, Anya's going through some changes, while Spike struggles to find the right words to tell Buffy.

Sterling and Anya were lying in bed next to one another. "You were more animated than normal this time," he told her.

"Maybe it was the three-day wait. All that pent-up energy."

"You sounded like you were in pain. Did I do something wrong?"

"You were great. I just feel cold." She rolled on top of Sterling. "Hold me." He held. She rested her head on his chest. He stroked her hair. "That's better," Anya told him. "You always make it better."

"What you said earlier, bout us needing more time together, you were right. How bout you spend the weekend at my place?"

"A weekend at the beach. Sounds romantic. Do they give Nobel Prizes for boyfriends? Cause if they do, you deserve one."

"Wouldn't that require going to Sweden? It's cold up there, and there's no good surfing in Scandinavia. And wouldn't I have to get dressed up? Sounds a lot less fun than what I'm doing right now."

"Sterling, honey, do you have ambitions, goals, dreams?"

"Being with you."

"That's sweet, baby. But darling, what about everything else? Your job, your future?"

"Don't think about the future. It'll come when it's ready. Why?"

"You're so laid back. Maybe it's a California thing. Or maybe you're some Zen Master. Or maybe not, since they're bald and skinny and totally unstudly. I just don't get you. What makes you tick?"

"That would be my heart."

"Quit joking, Sterl. You know what I mean."

"Fine. I'll be serious. I try to have fun without hurting people. That's about it."

"That's all? I mean, it's good, makes sense. But that's it?"

"No. Otherwise my life would be empty. I need passion, purpose, just like everybody else. That's where you come in. Every guy needs to find a women to worship. If she loves him, what else does he need in life to be happy?"

Manu talked with Amur. "You seem upset. I sense jealousy and envy, emotions dirty and impure and unworthy of residing within your resplendent brain."

"You sense wrong, Master."

"I am never wrong about my Brethren. And do not lie to me about my own thoughts. I suspect you know better."

"I only lie since you force me to state what you already know. Such concealment is the same as a lie, is it not, Master?"

"I underestimate you, and you make me pay."

"Then why do you still underestimate me?"

"Amur, you are one step from completion. As is Rama. But he has been chosen by me. You take this to mean I hold you in lower esteem. But that is not the case. When Rama ascends, he will not be my equal. He will be my slave. He will be a mere extension of my being. You, on the other hand, will be Master in my absence. You will lead the others. And remember, the Golden Time is only hours away. When it begins, we will all be equal." Manu walked off, leaving Amur behind.

Manu went down to a windowless basement room. The floor was marble. The walls were granite. The ceiling was covered in gold leaf. Four torches burned from the four corners of the room, which was about 20 feet square. Through a secret passageway in a wall, Rama entered. He wore a black robe with a white hood. Manu wore a black robe with a purple border. Through a secret passageway in another wall, a man entered wearing a red robe. He carried with him a pregnant woman in a white robe with a purple border. She was bound and gagged, and crying. She was strung by her feet from the ceiling. Manu walked up to her, pulled her neck up to his mouth, bit her and drank. While he did this, he removed her gag and put his left hand over her mouth so she could neither scream nor breathe. When he finished drinking, he bit his right hand. Then he removed his left hand from the poor woman's mouth and placed his bleeding right hand over her mouth. When she gasped for breath, she unintentionally drank Manu's blood. Then Manu removed the rope which tied her hands and used it to strangle her to death.

At that point in the ceremony, the man in the red cloak picked up one of the torches and thrust it down his throat. He stood motionless as he was immolated. Manu reached into the ashes and pulled out the torch's charred wooden handle. He used it to stake the pregnant woman through the heart. One of Manu's powers was the ability to instantly sire his human victims. She turned to dust, and her human baby fell to the ground. Rama grabbed it in midair. Rama held the baby boy as Manu bit into Rama's neck and drank. Rama grew weak and struggled to remain standing. Manu poured a chalice of his own blood into Rama's open mouth. As his strength returned, Rama bit into and drank the newborn dry. The hood of his robe turned black. For the first time in over 1,000 years, there were two Ninth Degree Masters.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 2002

Willow didn't feel so good when she woke up. She had a headache and was a little dizzy. She walked to the bathroom. Buffy saw her. "Willow what's wrong? You don't look quite right."

"Makes sense, cause I feel quite wrong."

"Your neck! The spot where you were hit. It's got a big purple bump."

Willow reached up and touched the bump. It hurt tremendously. "Buffy, the hallway's spinning. I know it's not, but it look like it is."

"You need to lie down." Buffy led Willow back to bed. "You were poisoned or something. I'll get everyone on it. We'll figure out what it is and get you fixed up good as new in no time." Buffy felt Willow's forehead. She was burning up and soon started sweating.

"Usually you play the patient, and I play the doctor," Willow joked. "I miss playing the doctor. It's so much less excruciating and painful." Buffy ran downstairs to find what books she had which could be of use. Willow always did the research, but that wasn't an option this time. A few minutes later Patrick called.

"Buffy I have very bad news."

"So do I. Willow's sick. Whatever shot her poisoned her."

"Oh dear. That's awful."

"What was your bad news?"

"I've deciphered most of the glyphs, and I'm pretty sure the world is going to end tonight."

"Great. Just what I need. More worries."

"I get your point. Priorities being what they are, we actually have to put world destruction on the back burner for now. I'll be right over."

15 minutes later Patrick arrived. He had been up all night working, and it showed. His face was stubbly, his curly hair more frizzy than usual. He seemed jittery from the combination of caffeine and fretting over imminent destruction. He went straight upstairs to Willow's bedroom. She was in pain and clearly disoriented.

"Last night, I tried to remove the pellet and there was nothing there," Buffy told Patrick.

"Probably water soluble so it can dissolve and enter the bloodstream. Have you handled these sorts of things before?"

"Yes. Usually I'm the one infected. But I got the procedure down cold. We figure out what the poison is, and we kill the demon whose blood or fluid is the antidote, then give it to Willow, and she's good as new. That's what she always did for me."

"Yes, that would be the primitive Witch Doctor approach. No offense. I know in your line of work the old ways work best. But I have a feeling this is my line of work." He pulled out a needle and a tourniquet. "I'm going to take a small blood sample, do some tests involving very expensive state-of-the-art equipment back at my lab, and try to find out what the culprit is, and if there's a treatment. I do it my way, you do it yours, we see who gets the job done first." He tied the tourniquet to Willow's right arm, got a vein to come up, and took out 1 cc of blood. Willow screamed. She was already in pain, and poking her with needles only made it worse. Buffy held her down. Patrick finished, then injected the blood into a test tube, which he capped with a rubber stopper. "I'll tell you as soon as I know anything." He walked downstairs. Buffy followed.

"Okay, I appreciate the help. But when you find out what it is, then what? You just gonna cook up a cure?"

"Hopefully."

"How can you be so confident?"

"I have resources, information, knowledge. I'm sure they used something I or one of my colleagues has already heard of. And we have treatments for 95 of the known demonic poisons and pathogens. I noticed Willow's running a high fever, so I'm guessing she's infected with something living. That should narrow down the search. And if it's living, I can kill it. Without killing Willow, of course."

"God, you are one cocky, know-it-all son-of-a-bitch. Better live up to your boasts this time around."

"Funny how much we have in common. We both think we're the best at what we do. We're both are sure we'll always come out on top, no matter what the odds. We're like photo negatives of each other. Rather frightening, don't you think?"

"Major mutual wiggins."

"Got that right."

"So what's the 411 on today being the End of Days?"

"It appears that last night a second Mausolus ascended to the Ninth Degree. That's why they guarded the place. The second Master is needed to perform the ritual which will end the world."

"Define end. Suck us into hell? Or into a demon dimension? Or burn the planet to a crisp?"

"They're going to try to make it disappear. Vanishing's their specialty after all. They believe that two Masters can achieve this by harnessing the demonic energy emanating from the Hellmouth. They do this tonight in the Temple. That is what it's built for."

"So the game plan's simple. We bust into the temple. Destroy it. Destroy them. End of the endgame."

"Easier said than done. These guys are wily. They have plenty of tricks up their sleeves. And I'm still trying to figure out what those tricks will be. If past behavior is any guide, they'll find ways to keep you busy and away from the Temple. That's probably the reason for the poison. Which is why I have to find a cure quickly. Time is our enemy."

"Are you sure it's today? In the past, there's always been an earthquake as the harbinger of impending doom. I haven't felt any earthquake."

"This morning. 5:30 am. 2.1 on the Richter Scale. Like they say, not with a bang, but a whimper." Patrick left. Buffy tried to figure out what to do in the meantime. First, she called Xander. His previous construction project ended Thursday, so he had the day off. Once he heard Willow was sick, he immediately came over."

At the Magic Box, Anya and Spike, unaware of what was afoot, continued on with their lives. "Spike, last night, when I was in bed with Sterling, something happened."

"I'm sure it did, and I don't fancy hearing about it."

"It wasn't that. Actually it was during that. Something happened inside of me."

"Like I said, I can do without the details."

"Oh, you thought I meant . . . He was inside of me, but that had nothing to do with it. It couldn't have. This was very different. It was painful. Like something being ripped out of me."

Spike thought for a moment. "No. It can't be. It's too early."

"Too early for what?"

"Losing your demon powers. Remember when Grendel came to town cause you'd gone without for 6 months. Well, when I was researching that, I came across something else. Said if you went without for 12 months, you were no longer a demon. No monsters, no punishment. You'd just be stripped."

Anya started hitting Spike in the shoulder. "You knew that, and you didn't tell me! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid how you'd react. Thought maybe you'd do vengeance just to keep your power. I didn't want to tamper."

"You knew something about me. Something important. And you didn't tell! That's low. What do you think I am, a child who can't handle the truth?"

"Anya, it's moot. And that can't be what happened. Like I said, it's too early."

"I didn't realize it then, but now I can feel it. Or rather, I can feel its absence. How did I lose it? Who took it from me. DeHofren? It had to be. But why?"

"Maybe he knew your heart wasn't in it. You have been quite happy as of late."

"Because of Sterling. Oh, that's just peachy. Love cost me my powers. And during my . . . well, you know, that moment. Oh god. I'm a demon who was changed by a moment of perfect happiness. I'm a cliche."

"And an overworked cliche at that," Spike joked. "Are all the Higher Demons existentialists who read too much Kierkegaard and became obsessed with the Fear and Trembling' metaphor, the orgasm as the leap of faith which saves or loses the soul? I'm just glad that wasn't my bloody Trigger.' But that couldn't have been what flipped the switch."

"Right, cause I've had plenty of those with Sterl. Dozens, scores, hundreds in fact."

"Okay, I get the idea. Enough."

"Spike, you have no reason to feel inadequate compared to Sterling. Actually, you do. But that's obvious and anyway it's beside the point. For whatever reason, DeHofren decided last night was the time to pull me off the roster. Maybe he realized Sterl was different, that he could never hurt me, never betray me. Still, it was impersonal. He didn't even tell me to my face I was out. Old coot's not as hands-on as he once was."

"Maybe he knew he made a mistake when he rehired you, but was too pigheaded to admit it. Hence the remote defrocking. How you taking it, mortality and all?"

"I feel so weak. And fragile. It's been a while since I teleported, but it was nice to know I could do it if I wanted to."

"There is one big benefit. Now you no longer have a secret identity you have to keep hidden from your precious Sterling."

Xander was with Buffy, fretting about Willow. She had a high fever, which had made her delirious. What made it worse was their sense of helplessness, their inability to do anything to make Willow better. The symptoms were too vague to allow them to identify the culprit. Usually the gang would do a chemical analysis of the poison, but Willow always performed that. But then, two hours after leaving, Patrick called.

"I found your bug. It's a unicellular protozoa, a microdemon. Usually it kills within two days, but there is a treatment. I'm putting together the ingredients now, and should have it ready in a few hours. She'll be fine."

"What can we do to help her," Buffy asked.

"How's her fever? Did you take her temperature?"

"Twenty minutes ago. It was 103."

"That's good. It's high, but not life-threatening. And that bump on her neck, it's just a bruise, a hematoma cause by the disintegration of the pellet under her skin. You can put some ice on that, take down the swelling."

"So by this afternoon she should be good as new?"

"Not that fast. It takes a few hours for the medication to do its work. This isn't poison. You don't administer the antidote and the person instantly recovers. It's an illness. You have to give her time."

"But according to you we don't have time!"

"So Willow probably won't be able to help tonight. But she'll be all better tomorrow."

"Any idea how we get to tomorrow?"

"You fight demons. You kill them. We find some way to break into and destroy the Temple. Kind of stuff you're good at." Buffy hung up.

"Was that Patrick," Xander asked. "What did he say?"

"He knows what's hurting her. Says he'll have a cure in a few hours. But she'll probably be too weak to help us tonight."

"Perfect. What now? How do we stop them?"

"Kill em. Destroy the Temple."

"So you and me were barking up the right tree last night."

"Now all we need to do is figure out how."

"And that's where Willow comes in. If she could. But she can't."

"The shot that hit her. It was meant for me. It glanced off my crossbow into Willow. I'm supposed to be the sick one."

"So they were trying to get you out of the picture for their big night."

"The books said these guys are sneaky, fight indirectly, avoid confrontation. Think about it. Those dogs. Why weren't they out there on the lawn to begin with? Why was there only the single guard? To draw me into a trap. It's my fault."

"Buffy you were right to check out the place."

"Not that. It's my fault I didn't kill him with my first shot. A little better aim, and Willow's fine."

"And what if you didn't bullseye the second shot? You'd be sick. I'd be sick. Who knows. Maybe we'd be doberman puppy chow by now."

It didn't take Patrick long to assemble the ingredients. When properly mixed, they destroyed the protozoa's cilia, the dozens of little row-like arms it used to move. Once immobilized, the parasite could no longer find food. Furthermore, it could no longer properly dispose of its waste products. These were toxic to both the person and the parasite. By keeping in constant movement, the parasite kept one step ahead of its own toxins. Unable to move, the unicellular demon starved and poisoned itself to death at the same time. Once their numbers began to dissipate, the human body was capable of disposing of the toxins, destroying the paralyzed protozoans, and healing itself. However, this took time.

"How's the research coming along," a man asked as he walked into the lab. Patrick was a bit nervous, considering the nature of this extracurricular research.

"Professor Hartog. Henry. Nice to see you."

"I read your paper on intercellular matrix histoproteins and systemic lupus erythematosus. You made some clever insights. Top-notch work."

Patrick smiled. "Thanks Henry."

"You know why they call it lupus?"

"Lupus, the wolf. Causes extreme light sensitivity. Those who have it tend to stay indoors during the day."

"Hence in olden times some people thought they had turned into wolves." Hartog laughed. "We see a victim of an autoimmune disease. Others see werewolves. The crazy stuff people once believed in." Hartog left the room. Patrick resumed his work.

Patrick was worried about getting the mixture wrong. He had never done this sort of thing before. He called several of his Counter-Council contacts and found those with more expertise than himself. Once he had the proportions right, he worried about the dosage. Once he had the dosage right, he worried about how much to dilute the mixture by. Once all his worries were quelled, he felt ready to go to Willow. He wanted to be safe, to be sure. But he also knew time was of the essence.

Around 1:30, he arrived. "How is she," he asked.

"A little worse than before," Buffy replied. "Totally out of it."

"Any discoloration on the skin? I mean, other than where she was hit?"

"I didn't check. Why?"

"If there's none, the disease hasn't progressed very far. Then recovery should be easy. Well, not easy. But brief." Patrick pulled out his needle. It was quite large. He was going to inject a lot of fluid into Willow. The size of the syringe scared Xander and Buffy a bit. "Can you two hold her down," he asked. Buffy held down Willow's shoulders. Xander held her right arm. She had been very fidgety, and didn't like being grabbed.

"It's okay Willow," Buffy told her, hoping she was still a little bit lucid. "We're going to make you all better."

"He's giving you something to help you fight this thing," Xander said. Patrick was no doctor. He was not used to injecting people. So he was a little nervous. He didn't want to do anything stupid, like miss the vein or snap the needle when it was in her arm. He made sure the air was purged. Then he found a vein, stuck the needle in, and slowly pushed down on the plunger. Willow grew even more agitated. Course, Buffy was very strong, and good at restraining people. It was over in a few seconds.

"That should do the trick," Patrick said. "Now just do the normal stuff - let her rest, lots of fluids, someone watch over her, the sort of things a real medical doctor would say. The worst should be over." Patrick left the room. Buffy followed. Xander stayed behind with Willow to see if there were any changes.

"Turns out there is a demon you can kill and use its juice to cure what Willow has," Patrick explained. "And I think one or two of them live near the Hellmouth. But they're nocturnal, like most demons. So by then it would have been a little late, considering the other business."

"Thank you," Buffy said to Patrick. "Thanks for everything."

"I don't deserve your thanks. That's embarrassing. Not for this. You've saved the world. More than once, apparently. So I should be thanking you."

"What happened to your massive ego?"

"Threats of imminent destruction humble me." They were downstairs. Patrick sat in a chair in the dining room, and briefly rested his head on the table. Then he pulled it back up. "By the way, last night, when you wanted to storm the place, you were right on the money. That's when they were making their second Master. To do that, they needed 8 other members to be present, one representing each of the first 8 Degrees of the Order. If I wasn't so chicken, maybe you would have kept at it, got in, killed one of them, ended all of this. Cause that's all it would have taken. Sorry I was such a naysayer."

"I don't think we have time for self-pity," Buffy told him, and perhaps also herself. Xander came down.

"She's quiet. Moving less than before. Is that a good sign?"

"Should be. Means the parasites are less active, and the medicine's working."

"Glad to hear," Xander replied. "And what's with this vampire cult pulling a David Copperfield with the entire planet?"

"It's not as crazy as it sounds. Like I said the other night, the only mystery is existence. How something came from nothing. Scientists, theologians, philosophers still can't explain that. But we know it happened. And if in an instant nothing turned into something, then it's logical to assume the reverse is possible."

"Fair enough," Xander replied. "But my problem with your reasoning is, it's reasonable. It makes sense. Abracadabra, no more world, that makes no sense. Sucked into a demon dimension, that makes sense."

"I think it has something to do with anti-matter. The Hellmouth is a sort of wormhole, a shortcut to other dimensions, and to their energies. The Mausoleans are going to reach into that wormhole and pull out the right mix of anti-matter to negate our reality. Least that's my theory. Doesn't matter how they do it. What matters is stopping them. Which is why I have to go and finish trying to decipher those glyphs, see if I can uncover any clues to help you do your job." Patrick went to the door.

"Meet us at the Magic Box before dark if you find anything," Buffy told him.

"Sure thing. Cause meeting you after dark it would be too late. By the way, I don't envy you people. I'm bone tired, but I'm afraid if I fall asleep I won't ever wake up. In the past, my fear was doze off, I won't finish the paper, or study for the exam. Sometimes it felt like if I didn't ace the thing it would be like the end of the world. Now it's not just a metaphor. I'm sure there's some lesson here about how our petty problems don't amount to a hill of beans, but that would be a metaphor, and they've gone out the window." Then Patrick left.

"He thinks to much," Xander told Buffy. "I realize now that thinking CAN be a very bad thing."

"If you think about it, not thinking can be smart," Buffy replied. "Okay, I think Gugan's overthinking is becoming contagious."

"Good point. Leave the philosophizing to the pointy-heads. Gotta figure out how to take down that Temple. We need more brains to bounce stuff off."

"Magic Box then," Buffy proposed.

"What about Willow?"

"Dawn will be home soon. She watches Willow. We go to work. Let's just see how she's doing." They went upstairs. Willow was sleeping. Buffy felt her forehead. "Her fever's still there. But she's not burning up like before."

"She looks peaceful," Xander added. "Not at all like someone fighting off a vicious demon microbe."

"She's used to fighting," Buffy replied. "We all are." They went downstairs and let Willow sleep. They sat around, trying to strategize, while they waited for Dawn. After about 20 minutes, Dawn came home.

"What's with the serious faces," Dawn asked. "Something wrong? What's wrong?"

"Usual stuff," Xander began. "Demons want to end the world. Tonight. We gotta stop em."

"And unusual stuff," Buffy began. "Last night, when we were scouting their hangout, Willow got hit and infected with some demon poison. Patrick found the antidote, and she's getting better. But we have to go to the Magic Box, figure out how to save the day. Can you watch over Willow?"

"Of course. But then what? I mean, what about tonight?"

"Willow should be much better by then. I'll need you Dawn. Out there, helping me. Killing vampires. Usual stuff."

Dawn smiled. "That's the first time you ever said you needed me. As a fighter. I've dreamed of this day. Except in the dream the world's not about to end."

"So nice to see you've found a silver lining in my abject desperation," Buffy joked. Then she left with Xander. Dawn was still beaming. She went up to check on Willow.

Xander and Buffy arrived at the Magic Box around 3:30. "Where's Spike," Buffy asked Anya, to the consternation of Xander.

"He left about 30 minutes ago. Said he had some music thing to do."

"Too bad. What would be ever do without Spike," Xander commented sarcastically.

Spike was at his apartment, practicing what he was going to say to Buffy. "Buffy, without you I'm nothing.' No. Too desperate. You're the reason I'm alive.' No. Too sappy. You complete me.' Oh, that's just bloody awful. I'm making myself sick. Just be yourself. Speak from the heart. She loves you. Bloody hell. I've become a sodding greeting card. And I'm only getting worse. I need to stop practicing. I need to . . . I need a drink. Perfect. Get all sussed. Then I'll really make a fool of myself. It's this mirror. This bloody mirror. Like another me. Copying me, looking at me, driving ME crazy! Arghh!" Spike kicked the mirror and shattered it. He looked at the broken glass on the floor. "Real smart, Spike. Now I have to clean it up. Smash the mirror. Free yourself. What do I think this is, Tommy?"

Around 4:30, Patrick entered Anya's store. "Just when I thought it COULDN'T get any worse," he announced as he walked over to the circular table where Xander, Buffy and Anya were sitting and researching.

"Good grief! You look like hell," Anya told the disheveled Patrick.

"Right now that's the least of my worries." He threw a stack of papers on the table. "Here are the glyphs, with my interpretations. Any comments, corrections, disagreements, be my guest. Cause for the first time in my life, I'd love to be wrong." He started flipping through the books of demons.

"Is there bad news," Buffy asked. "I mean, more bad news?"

"Abraxas."

"What's that," Xander asked.

Patrick kept looking through the volumes. "Santana's best studio album, but that's beside the point. Abraxas is a demon whose fame extends back to ancient times. Supposedly, it can be summoned by those possessing the Gnosis, or secret knowledge. Based on those glyphs, I believe the Mausoleans are summoning one tonight. Part of their strategy of diversion. To keep you busy while they do their damage. Here, I found it." He put the book on the table, and pointed to the large illustration. It had the head of a bird, the chest and arms of a man, and two snakes for legs.

"That's laughable," Buffy commented. "Talk about animal-human combos gone horribly wrong. How does it walk? Am I supposed to believe the snakes stand on their head? And the beak head. What's that for? Shouldn't it have big, sharp teeth. What, it's gonna slither after me and peck me to death?"

"I think the drawing's fanciful," Patrick surmised. "It can't be literal."

"Unless it's four demons in one," Anya proposed. "A bird demon, two demon snakes, and a human-looking demon."

"That's a good inference," Patrick replied. "Very good. Terrifying, but smart."

"That's me in a nutshell," Anya joked.

Patrick continued. "Four-in-one. Four elements. Four humors. Four cardinal points. It fits with their philosophy. And four demons means four times the diversion."

"How do you know this," Buffy asked.

"Panels 44 and 45. Plus, I knew they'd do something like this to avoid direct confrontation. For them, this is the end, and they're pulling out all the stops."

"Gosh, you're just a wreck," Anya said to Patrick. "Save the stressing for when you're life's in immediate danger. Otherwise you won't last. You can't exhaust yourself before you actually do anything."

"I've been doing things. All last night, today, deciphering those pictures, the symbols. Like trying to piece together an unknown language."

Anya flipped through Patrick's papers, looking at the symbols. "Actually, most of these are pretty obvious. Generic almost. A couple I don't know. All and all, like reading a picture book. Surprised it took you so long."

"Thank you. You must be Anya, the proprietor of this establishment."

"And you must be Patrick Gugan, wacky obsessive demon biologist."

"I consider myself intense. You seem to be the wacky one."

"I just tell it like it is. And if you don't like it - "

"Never said I didn't like it."

Anya smiled sheepishly. "Thanks, but, I think you should that I have a - "

"I'm not hitting on you."

"Oh," Anya said, a little embarrassed. "Why not?"

"Cause then I'd have to be polite to you, and where's the fun in that?"

"Didn't know scientists could be so nimble with the wordplay."

"It's cause I'm not hitting on you. Hence no pressure. Always easy to impress when you're not trying."

"Can we hold off on the Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolfe' tryouts for now," Buffy asked. "Try to stay focused, people."

"Of course," Anya agreed. "I just don't get this global disappearing act. You said something about anti-matter, but that's just so dull and, well"

"Unpoetic? Fine, I'll make it more lyrical," Patrick told her. "How's this? Creation is a balancing act. Everything must add up to zero. Every time a world is created, it's antithesis comes into being to maintain the balance of forces. Not a bizarro world. Not another reality. Just energy. Sitting somewhere. Bring this energy, this anti-matter, into contact with our world, and both entities disappear. Back to the beginning. Back to zero. The Order of Mausolus believes destroying our petty reality will cause them to ascend to a higher reality, to their conception of Heaven."

"You're just making that up, aren't you," Xander asked dismissively.

"Yep. Except for the last part. But it's like Superstring Theory. Impossible to prove. But also impossible to disprove. And it's not dull. Least I don't think it is." Winnie told Patrick that line about Superstring Theory.

"It's really just a simple destructive dialectic," Anya observed.

"This is precisely why I never ask why. Or how," Buffy announced. "Who, what, when, where, they'll keep you alive. Why and how are a waste my time. And right now, we don't have a lot of time to waste. Abraxas. Quadruple demon. Sundown. Where?"

Patrick thought. "Away from the Temple. They want to keep you out of their hair, after all. Probably someplace crowded, so you'll take notice. And somewhere near the Hellmouth, cause they need its energy to raise the thing."

"The high school! It's going to rise in the high school," Buffy asked.

"No. It will be night. So the school will be empty."

"I meant cause that's where the Hellmouth is."

"You mean there's an actual focal point, a literal mouth?"

"I thought you were know-it-all-guy?"

"I just figured it was a figurative description of an energy field. How bout that. But it's not like it rises FROM the Hellmouth, from beneath. It'll just materialize. And they can put it where they want, so long as it's in close proximity to the Hellmouth, meaning anywhere in this town."

"But you said it wants a crowd," Buffy began. "And if Anya's right about the bird thing, it'll want to be outdoors. Sounds like Main Street."

"MY shop is on Main Street," Anya realized.

Xander tried to put things in some sort of order. Make their tasks seem less daunting. "So it's a guy, two snakes, and a flying demon. You've handled these before, Buffy. But never all at once. How big are these snakes? Are we talking giant?"

"Can't be too giant," Patrick guessed. "They have to be in proportion to the guy. Or so the iconography would lead us to believe."

"So the guy could be giant," Xander asked.

"I assume he's quite large."

"But not 60 feet, King Kong large," Xander hoped.

"Of course not," Patrick replied. "Creating something that massive would consume far too much of their power. Plus it could go out of control and smash their Temple."

"So we're talking normal size demons, and four of them," Buffy concluded. "I can kill them. But I can only kill them one at a time. That's our big dilemma."

"That, and one of them may be airborne," Xander mentioned.

"And they're just the warmup," Patrick added.

"Right," Xander replied. "We still have to destroy the Temple." He walked around the table. "I got it! I think I know how to do that."

"Howitzer," Patrick asked.

"Like I could steal that. We don't blow it up. We take it down. You said this structure has a basement. Then it has a subterranean foundation, near the tunnels. From there, I can undermine the foundation."

"A sapping operation," Patrick observed.

"That's what I'd call it if I were Military Guy. But this is Construction Guy talking. I can get into our company's warehouse. Grab drills, saws, even some dynamite. A GPS system to make sure I'm in the right location. I think I can do this."

"After we deal with this Santana demon," Buffy told him.

"Abraxas demon," Patrick clarified.

"Whatever," Buffy replied. "Knowing its name doesn't help me kill it."

Xander told Buffy his plan. "We have a few hours before nightfall. I'll go now for my gear. Meet you back here before the sun sets. I won't start working until after we kill the quadruple demon."

"And while you're doing that I'll go home, get weapons, check on Willow."

"I'm going to go get some stuff too," Patrick added belatedly. Everyone left. Anya was alone and unprotected. She poked her head out the door.

"If this thing comes early and trashes my store before you get back, you're all gonna pay," she yelled at them as they went their separate ways.

Buffy went upstairs. Dawn was with Willow. "How is she," Buffy asked.

"Quiet. Sleeping most of the time," Dawn replied.

Buffy felt Willow's forehead. "Her fever's gone down. That's a good sign. Maybe I should wake her, see if she's ready to help."


	6. Dawn gets eaten by a giant snake

Buffy went upstairs. Dawn was with Willow. "How is she," Buffy asked.

"Quiet. Sleeping most of the time," Dawn replied.

Buffy felt Willow's forehead. "Her fever's gone down. That's a good sign. Maybe I should wake her, see if she's ready to help."

"It's not even dark yet. What's the hurry?"

"I'll explain on the way," Buffy said as she went downstairs for her weapons. "I'll need you to fight. Willow too if she's up to it."

"We have to go now?"

"No. We have an hour, maybe an hour-and-a-half. Are you hungry? I'm hungry. And I think this is our only shot at dinner. Gonna be a busy night." They ate, and Buffy explained. Dawn was understandably overwhelmed.

"Superdemon, vampire gang, and an apocalypse. All in the same night?"

"Guess we hit the trifecta. Look on the bright side. And least there won't be any gods to fight."

"You know you just majorly jinxed us with that one." After eating, Buffy packed up all the weapons she could. Around 6:15, as they were getting ready to leave, Zooey showed up. Buffy and Dawn were not ready for this. They quickly hid the weapons behind the couch.

"Is Willow here," Zooey asked.

Buffy and Dawn looked at each other. It was always awkward to talk to outsiders when they were in fight mode. "Willow's sick," Buffy explained.

"Is it bad?"

"No. She's getting better quite quickly."

"Can I see her?"

As Buffy tried to figure out what to say, she realized Zooey might be useful. "Sure. In fact, we were just heading out, so you can watch over her while we're gone. Okay?"

"What exactly are you in such a hurry to get to?"

"Family thing," Buffy replied.

"Yeah. Family thing," Dawn concurred. Buffy went into the kitchen and called Xander on his cell phone. He was on his way to pick them up. Zooey went upstairs to see Willow. Buffy breathed a sigh of relief and pulled out the weapons.

"So that's Willow's new girlfriend," Dawn commented. This was the first time she had seen Zooey. "She's nice, and I guess she's pretty, but I didn't think that was, you know"

"Willow's type? I thought the same thing. Willow seems to find her exciting."

"Just what we need in our lives. More excitement," Dawn joked. Xander pulled into the driveway. Dawn got in the truck, and Buffy went to put the weapons in the flatbed. But it was full of Xander's construction equipment. So she put the weapons on the back seat.

"You two go ahead. I'll walk, make sure there aren't any more surprises." Xander drove away. Buffy started walking. As she went down her street, Spike met up with her.

"Buffy there's something I need to tell you."

"Can it wait? I kinda busy."

"Buffy this is important. It's about us, about how I feel about you."

"We'll do this later." She kept on walking. Spike followed.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you? You beg me to open up to you, now I'm ready to pour my heart out, and you brush me off. What is your problem?"

"Where should I start? Spike, I'll talk to you tomorrow. Right now I got some stuff to deal with."

"Yeah, and we have some stuff to deal with."

"I have more important things on my mind. I don't have time for you. This, with us, it's a distraction. Don't take this the wrong way."

"Is there any other way to take it?"

"I don't see why we can't do this tomorrow."

"I don't see why we can't do this tonight."

"I have more important things to take care of." Buffy walked away. Spike stood still. He was mighty miffed.

"Fine! Playing hard to get. Giving me a taste of my own medicine. I can take it! I knew you were gonna play mind games, make me suffer. I know what you're up to, and trust me, you're NOT getting under my skin." She didn't even turn around to acknowledge him. Spike walked away. He needed to get out of this cursed town. He got into his car and headed north to clear his head. Buffy didn't tell Spike of the crisis because she believed he would provide more distraction than help. Right now, the way things were between them, having him around would take her mind off the demon-fighting. She couldn't be bothered by personal issues on this night.

When Xander, Dawn and Buffy returned to the Magic Box, they found Anya closing up shop. "You guys can lock up when you're done, she told them."

"Hold on. Where are you going," Buffy asked.

"To see my boyfriend Sterling. I have plans to meet him before sunset."

Xander was also shocked. "We're facing demons galore and the possible end of the world, and you're going on a date?"

"Precisely. It's not like Buffy hasn't done this before. And you don't really need me. What do I contribute?"

"Anya, you're very important," Buffy responded. "I need all of you. And Anya I need you most of all. With your demon powers, you teleporting, that could prove crucial."

"If I was a demon. But I'm not. Not anymore." Xander, Buffy and Dawn were stunned.

"When did this happen," Xander asked.

"Last night. Now that I'm in love, I don't have the vengeance in me anymore. DeHofren cut me loose. I'm mortal. Flesh and bone. Human."

"Anya, I, I don't know quite what to say," Buffy stammered.

Xander did. "Anya, that's great! Congratulations. I'm so happy for you." He hugged her. "This is what you wanted, right?"

"I didn't choose it. Took me quite by surprise. But I'm glad it happened. I want Sterling to know me as a women, not some super-powerful, man-tormenting Vengeance Demon. It's like a load's been lifted off my shoulders."

"Anya, I'm happy for you," Buffy responded. "But just cause you're not a demon doesn't mean you're not important. You were important way before you got your powers back. I need you."

"So does Sterling. And I think he needs me more. I know this is a big thing, but right now my heart's not in it, and my mind's somewhere else. I'll help in the future. I promise."

"If there is a future," Buffy told her.

"There will be. There always is. Just give me tonight to be with the man I love. And if by some freak mishap the world does end, I'd like to be with Sterl when it happens." Then she went to her car and drove away. A few minutes later Patrick came back. He was holding a pitchfork.

"Is this supposed to be some sort of joke," Xander asked him.

"A trident was the best weapon I could think of for snaring snakes. It allows me to stick them from a distance. And I sharpened all the points, so it's more a weapon than a farm tool. Come on, haven't you see any of the Friday the 13th' movies?"

"Whatever your comfortable with is fine with me. Heck, I killed a vamp once with a spatula." Buffy looked around. "Sun's almost set. It's getting eerily quiet. Time to take our positions."

"Sure would be nice if there were more of us," Xander told Buffy.

"I wish Spike were here," Dawn added.

"Spike wants to be alone. He made his choice," Buffy told Dawn. "Four of us. Four of them. Even fight the way I see it." Buffy went up the stairs and onto the roof of Sunnydale Community Savings Bank, a five-story structure which was the tallest building in town. From there she could see where the Abraxas materialized, and alert the others. Her perch also allowed her to shoot down the flying demon, if there was one. Once that was taken care of, she would go down and help the others. In the meantime, they would stall and hold the other demons off as best they could.

It was dark. Buffy noticed something large in front of the City Hall. "On your left," she told the others. "And it's coming your way." From a distance she could not get a very good look at the demon. When it arrived on Main Street, everyone got a good look. And they were horrified. The Abraxas stood 12 feet tall. Perched on his right shoulder was and extremely large bird-like creature which looked like a cross between a teradactyl and a vulture. Coiled around each leg was a very large green snake, their heads at his feet, their tails wrapped around his chest. Pedestrians quickly fled the street. Xander, Patrick and Dawn stood in the middle of Main Street, feeling completely helpless and utterly exposed.

"Okay then. We can get swallowed, pecked, beaten or strangled to death. What's your preference," Patrick joked to Xander.

Xander heard defeatism rather than dark humor. "We're not going to die."

"Any idea how to make that dream a reality," Patrick asked.

"We'll just take them on one at a time."

"And which one do we take on first," Dawn asked. "And what if they all attack us together?"

"We'll figure that out when they get there," Xander replied. "Right now, we let Goliath and his creepy crawlies make the first move." They waited. Abraxas lumbered forward. The ground shook with each step. He stopped about 50 yards in from of Xander, Patrick and Dawn. The bird flew of into the air. Its wingspan was 12 feet across. Buffy fired her first crossbow bolt. It missed. She reloaded. The bird swooped down and picked up a man in its left talon and took him high into the air. It turned in Buffy's direction. Now she had a closer shot. This time she connected, tearing off a piece of its right wing. It had trouble flying, and dropped the man from its talon. Buffy raced underneath the man and caught him. She pushed him in the direction of the roof access to the stairway.

"Get inside," she told him. He didn't need the hint, and ran into the building. Buffy reloaded again. The bird saw its attacker. It swooped down at Buffy like a dive bomber and tried to grab her in its long, toothy beak. Buffy tumbled out of the way. The bird flew a figure eight and came round for another pass at her. This time it tried to grab her with its talons. She somersaulted out of the way. It landed. Buffy stood back up. The demon was about 20 feet away. When on the ground, the thin layer of skin which formed its wings folded inward across its back. Talon to beak, it stood about 6 feet tall. It had legs, a thin chest, and long arms with clawed hands. Its head and wings were dark blue, its body dark green, with light brown talons and claws. Standing upright, it looked like a skinny reptilian demon with a bird demon's head.

With its feet on the ground, it looked like just another demon to Buffy. She fired her crossbow. It hit the demon in its chest. The demon reached across with its right arm and pulled the missile out of its flesh. Buffy pulled out a sword. The demon leaped at her. She dodged it. But it was very quick, and she could not elude the bird. It tried to bite her with its long, toothy beak. She ducked. It bent down to bite her. She slashed its right thigh. The demon shrieked in pain. Then Buffy stood up and decapitated the demon.

On the ground, the two snakes slithered away from the Abraxas, and towards Xander, Patrick and Dawn. Each of them was nearly twenty feet long and a foot thick. "Okay then, we go after the snakes first," Xander proposed.

"Makes sense, since they appear to be going after us," Patrick replied. "But I prefer cowering and waiting for Buffy to kill the bird and come down to help us." The snake on their right wrapped itself around an automobile, squeezing and crushing the cabin. The driver fell out and ran away. The Abraxas slowly trodded forward. It ripped a light post out of the pavement and started swinging it around like a ten foot bat. He broke windows, smashed parked cars, and tore down electric wires and traffic signals.

Xander took charge. "Patrick, you take the snake on the left. Dawn, the one on the right. I'll try to tangle with the big guy. Be careful. Buffy will be here soon." Dozens fled in all directions. The screams and shrieks could be heard from blocks around. Xander, Patrick and Dawn were the only ones who remained, like the calm eye in a violent hurricane.

Patrick waited for the snake to approach him. Its head and body rose ten feet into the air, looked down at him, and stuck out its tongue. He stuck out his pitchfork, so that if the snake lunged straight at him, it would impale itself on the weapon. The snake lunged forward and to Patrick's right. It turned its head left and prepared to bite Patrick's legs, avoiding the weapon and taking him from the side. Patrick leaped forward and stabbed the snake in the middle of its body. He plunged the fork points in deep and held on tight to its handle. The snake thrashed side-to-side, and used its tail to knock Patrick away. He landed in the middle of the street, still holding onto his weapon.

Xander walked towards the Abraxas, brandishing a halberd. The Abraxas wore a bronze cuirass on its chest. Its skin was smooth, shiny and white, like it was coated in ivory. On the top of its bald head were two golden plumes, one on each side, each reaching two feet into the air. The Abraxas hurled the light pole at Xander. He hit the deck and the pole sailed by him and slammed through a brick wall. Then the Abraxas ripped a parking meter out of the sidewalk, swinging it around in its right hand. The demon liked the short yet heavy weapon. It was perfect for smashing humans like Xander. "Okay then, cowering it is," he said as he backpedaled.

After crushing a car, the snake near Dawn slithered up a metal utility pole, wrapping itself around the pole in a helix. It peered down at Dawn. She pulled out a long sword, breathed rapidly, and looked frightened. But instead of attacking, the snaked broke through the glass and slithered into a clothing store to Dawn's right. She didn't dare pursue, but worried that the snake could reemerge and surprise her at any moment.

As Xander retreated away from the approaching Abraxas, Buffy killed the demon bird. The Abraxas appeared to shrink. "Did you see that," Xander yelled.

"Sorry. Wasn't looking," Dawn replied as she waited for the snaked to reemerge.

"I'm a bit busy," Patrick said as he faced down the injured snake, jabbing his pitchfork towards the demon to keep it at bay. Xander realized Patrick could use some help, and he ran to his assistance. Xander was carrying the two small, all-metal axes which hung on the wall of Buffy's training room. He threw one at the snake, hitting it near its tail. The snake turned to Xander. The sight of the beast's giant mouth caused him to shake a little. With the snake distracted by Xander, Patrick tried to stab it again. But it quickly turned to face him. Under attack from two sides, the beast slithered back about ten feet. Now it could keep an eye on both Xander and Patrick.

"How's it going for you," Patrick asked Xander.

"Can't complain. I think the big demon shrank a little bit."

"It got smaller?"

"Smaller's a relative term. It's still huge. But I saw it suddenly get a little less huge. And it wasn't just wishful thinking."

"Here comes the cavalry," Buffy yelled from atop the bank.

Dawn saw her. "You mean there are horse demons," Dawn yelled back.

"No! Just me!" Buffy leaped off the bank's fifth-story roof, sailed across a narrow side street, and landed on the roof of a three-story office building.

"Buffy did it! Buffy killed the bird," Dawn yelled to Xander and Patrick.

"I'd be relieved if I wasn't staring down this thing's gullet," Patrick responded. Patrick held out his pitchfork, Xander his halberd. The snake weaved its head back and forth, looking for vulnerablilites. It tried to maneuver around the two men, but each of them moved to counter these feints. But as Patrick moved left and Xander moved right ,the space between them increased. The snake raised its head high in the air, in front of and in between the two men.

"I think we're right where it wants us," Patrick commented.

"Divide and conquer," Xander observed. "Uh oh." The snake dove straight forward, in between the two men. Then it veered to its left, in Xander's direction. He gripped his halberd tight, hoping to strike the snake before it bit him. Patrick ran at the demon, and stuck his pitchfork in its side. The snake's head was only three feet from Xander's. It paused. He swung. The snake turned its head back and avoided the blow. It wrapped its back end around Patrick. He lost his grip on the pitchfork and it fell to the ground. Dawn saw what was happening and ran to help. As it began to squeeze Patrick with the back half of its body, its head continued to look menacingly at Xander. The snake had figured out a way to kill both of them at once. Dawn hoped she could get to them before it was too late.

Just then, the Abraxas bellowed something unintelligible. The snake let go of Patrick. It slithered backwards, its head still facing Xander. When it got fifty feet away, it turned around and headed in the direction of the Abraxas. Patrick fell to the ground. Xander picked him up. Patrick gasped for air. "Good thing I'm small and it's big. Couldn't squeeze me very hard. How did you drive it away?"

"I didn't," Xander answered. "I think it's going with the big guy to double-team Buffy. "Dawn, where's the other snake?"

"Good question," she answered. Then she turned and ran back to the store the snake had entered, and waited for it to come out.

After leaving Xander and Patrick, the snake slithered back to the Abraxas. Buffy jumped from the three-story roof to an adjacent two-story roof. From there she was going to leap down to fight the Abraxas. He was waiting for her. So was his snake. It held its head ten feet in the air and looked at her. The moment she leaped down to Main Street, it would catch her in midair and devour her. The Abraxas looked up at the Slayer and growled. He knew she had killed the bird. That meant she was the strongest fighter. And he had her cornered. Buffy knew this. She had to improvise. She was on Dawn's side of the street, a block south of Dawn, Xander and Patrick. At the moment, they looked out of danger. This was good. It meant she didn't have to worry about them. She ran south, leaping from rooftop to rooftop. The Abraxas and the snake moved south as well. When she reached the middle of the block, Buffy discreetly jumped off the back of a building. She was in the alley behind the buildings. The demons couldn't see her. She grabbed the lid of a trash can and hurled it north. It landed in the small street next to the bank. The demons heard the noise and moved north, thinking Buffy was there. She ran south, turned left and emerged on Main Street, nearly two blocks south of Dawn, Xander and Patrick and one block south of the snake and the Abraxas.

The demon realized it had been played. It stomped the ground, creating a long crack in the asphalt. Then it turned and moved towards Buffy, making a few more loud, guttural utterances. The snake slithered north towards Dawn. She turned to face it. Just then, the other snake shot out of the second story window above the store it had entered. Dawn looked up and screamed. The snake dove down head first, and swallowed her whole.

"Dawn! No! No," Xander yelled. He ran for the snake which swallowed her. The other snake attacked him. Patrick rushed to assist Xander.

Since she was two hundred yards to the south and facing down the Abraxas, Buffy didn't notice the commotion. When she was on the office building's roof, she had picked up a stone about twice the size of her fist. She was feeling whimsical. The Abraxas, now ten feet tall, picked up a traffic sign in its right hand and pointed its bottom end at Buffy like a spear. It held the parking meter in its left hand. Buffy stopped when she was within ten yards. "I read about this somewhere. Wonder if it really works," she told him. Then she hurled the stone at the Abraxas, hitting it in the forehead. He fell straight back and hit the ground with a mighty thud, letting go of both his weapons.

"So I guess that makes me David and you Goliath," she told the Abraxas as she walked up to its body. "Don't you big guys ever learn?" She raised her sword and prepared to behead the creature. As she began to swing downward, the demon opened his eyes. He reached up his left arm and grabbed the Slayer. He lifted her off the ground and threw her forty feet backwards. The Abraxas stood up. It removed the stone which was imbedded in its forehead and threw it back to Buffy. It glanced off her forehead, cutting it as she struggled to stand up. Buffy realized SHE had been played. Beast wasn't as dumb as she thought.

Dawn was engulfed by the snake as she held onto her sword with both hands. Everything went dark. She stabbed upward and outward, slashing for dear life. After about ten seconds, she had cut clear through a cross-section of the serpent, decapitating the beast. It fell dead, its front six feet separated from the back 14 feet. Dawn stood motionless, holding her sword, covered from head to foot in thick yellow slime.

Buffy picked herself up off the pavement and walked toward the Abraxas. Her back was killing her, and there was a bloody gash on her left temple. Even with the injuries, the demon seemed less imposing than before. "Now either I'm getting taller, or you're shrinking," Buffy said. She looked beyond the demon to see her friends struggling for their lives. She had to get to them, make sure they were safe. She leaped up onto a street sign. The Abraxas went to rip it down. When it approached, Buffy held onto the pole, spun around, and kicked the demon in the head. It staggered backwards. Then she leaped off the pole and kicked the demon again in the head. She landed, and now stood between the Abraxas and her friends. The demon swung the parking meter like a golf club, clobbering Buffy in the chin and sending her into the wall of a building. The Abraxas threw his traffic sign at her like a spear. She rolled out of the way, and the pointed end of the sign went through the wall. Buffy ran back to her friends. The demon ripped a mailbox out of the ground and threw it at her, knocking her down. But she pushed the metal box off of her, got up, and continued racing to Xander, who was in danger of being swallowed by the snake.

Xander was filled with rage and regret over Dawn getting swallowed. He thought she was dead, so all he wanted to do was kill or be killed. He raised his halberd and swung down at the snake's head as it lunged towards him. He sliced the head open from top-to-bottom right down the middle. The snake died. At the moment Xander swung, Patrick began stabbing the serpent's body with his pitchfork. After about five or six stabs he realized it was dead. He looked up, saw Xander, and saw the snake's head sliced in half. Both of them turned around.

"Dawn," Xander shouted at the person covered in yellow slime. "You're alive!" She still held her sword, and stood motionless, head tilted slightly downward. She looked up at Xander. Buffy arrived. She saw a snake cut in two. She saw Dawn standing there, covered in goo.

"Dawn what happened? Are you okay?"

"How would you feel if you were swallowed and had to hack your way out?"

"I remember it felt pretty yucky. Wait, you did that?"

"What does it look like, genius," Dawn asked, talking through her clenched teeth.

"Wow. I'm so proud of you! You are so tough. To have that happen, and keep your cool. You're a true warrior, Dawny."

"So that's what this gross icky feeling is."

"Hate to spoil this touching moment of sibling bonding, but it's coming for us," Patrick told Buffy.

Buffy looked at it. "I think it's shrinking."

"You noticed that too," Xander asked, glad he wasn't alone.

Patrick took a hard look and smiled. "Four-in-one. When the others die, it's like the Abraxas loses a part of itself. It gets smaller and weaker."

The Abraxas saw a man taking advantage of the lull to flee from a building. He threw the parking meter at him, knocking him unconscious. Then he lifted the back end of a car and flipped it over. He pushed the upside-down car down the sidewalk. It slid about 30 feet and crashed through the front of a restaurant. The Abraxas bellowed out, as if summoning Buffy.

"Time to finish the job," Buffy predicted.

"What do we do," Xander asked.

"Bring me weapons." She pulled out her sword and went after the Abraxas, now only six feet tall. It looked no tougher than any other demon. She swung and slashed him in the chest. The blade made a loud clanging noise when it hit the armor, but did no damage. He punched for her head. Buffy ducked, and tried to stab through the armor with the point of her sword. The point got caught on the armor and the sword flexed. The Abraxas knocked it out of Buffy's hands. Then he hit her with a right uppercut. She flew 15 feet back and fell down.

"Note to self: he gets smaller, but not weaker." Xander tried to help Buffy up. She stood up on her own. "Get me sledgehammer," she ordered. Cutting hadn't worked, so she was going to try pounding. While Xander ran to fetch the weapon, the Abraxas approached. Buffy tried to punch him. He blocked the blow, grabbed her, and threw her into light pole at the corner of the block. "I said hammer, NOW!" The Abraxas approached. He punched. She ducked. His fist went through a brick wall. Buffy hit him twice in the face, kicked him in the knee, and swept his legs out from under him. While he was down, Xander brought Buffy the sledgehammer.

"Sorry it took so long to carry," he apologized. "It's really heavy."

"It's not your fault," she replied. "You're a man, and men are weak. I know you're trying your best." She swung at the demon while it laid on its back. The Abraxas rolled out of the way. The hammer blow made a sizable dent in the pavement. The demon stood up. She pounded him in the chest, knocking him back and denting his armor. She hit him in the head with enough force to smash the skull of any demon. He flew back and fell on the sidewalk. But his head was intact. It wasn't even dented. As the Abraxas stood up, it started muttering something.

"It's Coptic Greek, I think," Patrick yelled out from a safe distance. "A mantra. Sounds like something I read in the books. I am nothing. I am not real. Soon you won't be either.' That's the gist."

"And what should that mean to me," Buffy asked.

"It's a death chant. He's ready to die."

"Bout time," Buffy replied. The Abraxas ripped out another parking meter. "What is it with you and those things," she wondered. "Too many tickets?" He swung for her. She blocked in with her hammer. She swung at him. The demon blocked it and went for Buffy's head. She ducked. With an upward golf swing she clocked the Abraxas in the chin and sent him into a wall.

"Buffy try the ax," Xander yelled holding up the large weapon in his hands. Buffy turned to look. Just then the Abraxas clobbered her in the chest with the head of the meter. She hit the wall behind her. But she kept on her feet and closed with the demon. It swung again for her midsection. She did a forward flip to elude the blow. "Buffy," Xander called out as he threw the weapon. Right as she landed, she grabbed its handle with both hands. As the Abraxas turned to face her, she chopped off its head. The corpses of the Abraxas and the other demons melted away.

"Thank God it's over," Xander said with relief.

"Actually, it's just beginning," Patrick reminded them.


	7. A vampire who gets no respect

A few hours earlier, Anya walked with Patrick along the beach, watching the sun set. "I'm glad you came," he told her.

"I like your house. It's charming. And cozy."

"That's just another way of saying it's a tiny dump."

"It's a great little getaway. For weekends. It could be our vacation house."

"What do you mean our? Is this your way of saying you want me to move in with you?"

"We'd be moving in with each other. Sometimes, well, most of the time, we'd be at my place, cause it's so much nicer. But other times we'd be here. Wherever we were, we'd be together. Don't you want that?"

"No. I want more than that. But it's a good start."

"Sterl, honey bunny, do you ever think about the future? About our future?" Marriage. Kids."

"You sure you're ready for that? I thought you'd want to take it slow, considering what happened with your last guy."

"I don't mean tomorrow. But don't you want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Of course. I just didn't think you saw me as marriage material."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not exactly the reliable, breadwinning, husband type. You know that."

"Who wants those boring things in a husband? Reliable, dependable - sounds like what you want in a kitchen appliance. Women who marry those types end up miserable (Anyaka would know). I love you as you are. I don't want to change you, even if you are unambitious and utterly without direction in your life. And I know you love me, flaws and all. You have a good heart. You respect me. You don't correct me or treat me like I don't belong here."

"Why would I do those things? You correct someone when they do something wrong. What do you do wrong?"

"I have been told by people in the past that I have a penchant for offending and annoying people by saying the wrong things at the wrong time. That my bluntness is rude and tactless and makes those around me uncomfortable."

"That's one of the things I love about you."

"You love me making people uncomfortable?"

"The only people you'd make uncomfortable are shallow, thin-skinned phonies and frauds I'd never want to talk to in the first place. You're not mean or malicious. You don't try to hurt people's feelings. And you're not blunt. You're witty and incisive and you speak your mind and I love it. Why would you expect me not to?

"Well, thing is, my other boyfriends haven't been quite so understanding. They didn't call me witty and incisive and, by the way, thank you. That's so sweet!"

"Obviously these other guys felt threatened by you. You're a strong woman. I love that, but some men find strong women intimidating."

"It wasn't them. They were just telling me what others were saying. Why the women didn't like spending time with me."

"My point exactly. They ostracized you cause they knew you were better than them. Just a bunch of dim, small-minded mediocrities who couldn't stand your radiant brilliance. Am I right?"

"You're amazing." She kissed him. "And right. Completely right." She turned around. "Oooh, here we go. this is what you brought me out here for, right?" He stood behind her, put his arms around her waist and they both looked West.

"The vanishing big orange ball was just an excuse to get you alone someplace romantic where I could ask you if you wanted to spend your life with me. But you, being so smart and clever, beat me to the punch."

"Are you making this up?"

"Of course. It was an flimsy excuse to have sex on the beach. But you got all serious and I went with the flow. I meant it though. I do want to spend the rest of my life with you. Wasn't sure you felt the same way."

Anya turned around the face him. "I do. Sterl, honey, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"There you go again. Beating me to the punch. That's what I was gonna say. Now I'm all out of romantic come-ons. What now?"

"Well. There was that proposal of yours."

"Wait. You think I asked you to marry me? Cause I wasn't. Not that I don't want to. But I'd need a ring, and a longer, better-prepared speech. Plus I'd probably want to be dressed nicer."

Anya smiled and laughed. "No silly. I meant the one about making love to me right here and now."

Sterling looked a little stunned. "You always surprise me. I love that. And I don't just mean the sexy surprises. I love the non-sexy ones as well." He looked back up the beach, to his right and his left.

"What are you looking for," Anya asked.

"Potential prying eyes of neighbors. It's still light out, and I don't want to put on a show. Doesn't look like anyone's home. Most of these places are vacation homes, and it's the off-season. That's the best thing about having a beach house in the off-season. You get the shore to yourself."

"Good thinking. After all, someone could videotape us and put it on the Internet and thousands of people would see it and violate our privacy and we wouldn't get one red cent. Wouldn't that be a nightmare." She ran out into the water. He ran after her, picked her up. She laughed. They played around some more. After all, Anya didn't see the point of a romantic weekend at the beach without a little frolic involved.

When Anya worried about getting caught on camera, she was forgetting about the little show she put on with Spike. Andrew, Warren and Jonathan could have saved the footage on their hard drive, burned some dvds or videotapes, and become porn moguls, a perfectly legal career path they would have loved. But since it was legal, it never crossed their minds. Neither for that matter did putting a camera in Spike's crypt, even though they planted one in every other building Buffy frequented. Course if they had hours and hours of that footage at their fingertips, they probably never would have had the time to get around to being supervillains.

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Zooey was in Willow's room, holding her hand, caressing her forehead. "Gosh. When you said we were going to spend tonight together, this isn't what I imagined. But it's good. You seem peaceful. And you stopped sweating. It would be great if you could wake up and talk me, tell me what happened, how you're feeling. But if you want to rest some more, that's fine. Whatever you want. I'm here for you. I love you, Willow. I want to be a part of your life."

"Xander? Buffy?" Willow opened her eyes. It took them a few seconds to focus. "Zooey."

"You're awake, sleepy head."

"Where is everybody?"

"They said they had a family thing to go to. Left about two hours ago. How are you feeling?"

"A little woozy. A lot groggy." She sat up in bed.

"What happened? You were fine last night. Was it food poisoning? That would explain the suddenness and the severity."

"Something like that."

"You still feel sick?"

"No. Just a little weak. So they all left." She stood up and looked out the window. It was dark. "I have to go. That family thing. They're expecting me."

"Okay. But last night you said you'd be free. Did this just come up?"

"Yes. Late last night. Kind of an emergency. Nothing to worry about. I'll see you tomorrow. I'm sorry, Zooey. I know it looks like I'm ditching you, but I'm not. It's complicated." Willow started getting dressed.

"Right. Family thing. Well, not literally. But you live with them, and you've known Xander your whole life, so they must feel like family." Willow went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.

"That's much better." Then she combed her hair. "Please don't take this personally. I'm sorry, but sometimes stuff comes up. I'll make it up to you tomorrow night. I promise."

"Is that a guarantee?"

"It is. If the world's still here tomorrow night, I'll spend it with you." She hustled down the stairs and into the kitchen. Had a quick bite to eat. Drank a lot of juice.

"I thought you'd be thirsty. You're stomach's all better, right?"

"Yeah. Except that it's completely empty. That's the only thing wrong with it. Now that I've taken care of that, gotta go." She walked to the door, then turned around before opening it. "Zooey, believe me when I say this has absolutely nothing to do with you. The time I spend with you, it's magical." She kissed Zooey, went to open the door, then kissed her again, then left. Zooey stood there, dumbfounded. She got her jacket and sat on the porch, trying to understand where she stood with Willow. Then Elijah walked up to the house.

"Hey Zooey. What are you doing here?"

"What? Who are you?"

"It's me, Elijah. Eli. I've jammed with your friends. Guitar, piano."

"Right, Eli. You're the prodigy. Elise mentioned how she was jealous of your improvising, all that jazz stuff."

"She shouldn't be, what with all her classical skills. I can't do Rachmaninov. She can practically play it backwards. Have you seen Dawn?"

"Buffy's kid sister? She's gone. They're all gone. Family thing. You playing gentleman caller with that girl?"

"We're friends. I know her from school. How do you know them?"

"I'm seeing Willow. She's out with them. I don't know how to say this, but do you think there's something odd about them?"

"I've noticed a few things. Dawn has . . . abilities. I think Buffy might, too."

"Huh. Hadn't noticed that. But the way they act when they're together. Like they have something to hide. A secret only they know. Course all really close friends get that way after a while."

"Or they could have secret identities," Elijah joked. "Then again, don't we all. I take it you don't have plans for tonight."

"Not anymore."

"Whadya say I come over to your place? To play guitar, of course. I've seen you onstage, so I know you're really good. Maybe you could teach me a few things."

"Sure. Sounds fun. I'm not in the habit of having boys your age spend the night with me, but you're supposed to be exceptionally gifted, so I'll make an exception."

"Oh, wait. You play right-handed. I'm a southpaw . . . Never mind. I can go both ways." They went into Zooey's car and drove out of town.

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Back on Main Street, gooey Dawny tried to walk, but slipped and fell. "Dawny are you hurt," Buffy asked.

"I'm fine. Just covered in snake slime. Slipping on it as I walk." When she fell, she dropped the sword. Luckily, she didn't fall on it. She struggled to her knees. Buffy and Xander went to grab her arms. But they backed off, afraid of getting the yucky yellow goo on their own hands. Dawn slowly stood up, one foot at a time. Willow came running to them.

"What happened down here? Looks like a disaster area. Dawn? Dawny? Is that you? My God, what happened?"

"I killed a giant snake. After it swallowed me. I'm fine. Just messy."

"Can someone please fill me in."

Patrick took this one. "Four demons came at nightfall. Two 20 foot-long snakes. A flying demon that looked like a teradactyl. And a 12-foot warrior dude. We took em down. Buffy got the bird and the big guy. Obviously Dawn smited one of the snakes. Xander did the other one in, with my assistance of course."

Willow marveled at the description. It was like a month or two of baddies in one night. "So was this that end of the world thing we were worried about?"

"No," Xander answered. "Which is both terrifying and disappointing."

"This was the diversion," Buffy explained.

Willow looked around. "Some diversion. Never seen an apocalypse with another apocalypse as its warmup act. Where now? That mansion?"

"Yep," Buffy replied. "Let's get going before it's too late."

Dawn slowly raised her hand, which was dripping in yellow slime. "Excuse me. I need to clean up first. I can't fight like this. Can't hold a weapon. Can't move much."

"Good point," Buffy replied. "Go home, shower, de-goo, and meet us ASAP. You know the red brick mansion on the hill off Sligo Parkway?"

"See you soon." Then Dawn began walking home. The other four got in Xander's truck.

Buffy wanted details. "I need a time frame. How long do we have before the ultimate disappearing act?"

"Midnight," Patrick replied.

"Midnight Pacific, right," Xander asked. "Cause if it's eastern, we're screwed.

"True midnight, 12 hours from true noon. For us, that's 11:40."

"So we have a little over three hours," Buffy realized. "I've pulled it off with tighter deadlines than that."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Manu and Rama walked towards the Temple. "Showtime," Manu told Rama. They disappeared, then reappeared inside the Temple. It was completely dark. Manu took Rama's hands to form a circle. They chanted for about 20 seconds. Then the chamber became illuminated. Yet there was no light source providing the illumination. "Let the countdown begin," Manu told Rama with a smile.

Outside, Amur addressed the seven other vampires. "I need to tell you how important this moment is to all of us. You have been preparing for it your entire lives. Eternal salvation is at hand. But it will not be handed to you. It must be earned by each and every one of us. You are not fighting for glory or sport or pleasure. You are fighting for something much higher. And fear not death, because it can no longer touch you. Remember, all who perish tonight shall live again in the Eternal Paradise our Master is opening up the gates to. Do not let the Lower Ones deny us our salvation. Hold them back, and soon they will be no more, while you will be everything you always dreamed of. This is the first truly glorious battle in the history of this miserable planet. And Gnostos willing it shall be the last." The other vampires cheered. When the cheers died down, they felt a little bored.

"What do we do now," one of them asked Amur.

"Wait for our cowardly enemies to show their faces. Waiting is good. For time is not on their side."

Three vampires approached the property. In the vanguard was a serious-looking vampire of average height and build, with a shock of red hair and cloudy blue eyes.

"Tell me again why we're fighting other vampires," one of the other two asked their leader.

"Cuz thar naught like other vampires," he replied in a thick Scottish accent. "Thar a crazy suicide coolt. Think thar bettar than us. Think ware scum. Wont to kill us. Naught if we get them farst."

"Can't we just wait and kill them when they try to kill us," the other asked. "They come round our way, we'll lick em good."

"Naught that simple. They'll kill us with magics. Cowards. Fraid of a fair fight. Got it all planned out. But best-laid plans oft go angly."

"What was that," one of them asked.

"We're going to throw a monkey wrench in their works and destroy everything they've worked for," the other one explained. The dobermans ran at the three vampire trespassers. While the other two vampires started to run away, their leader stood still. A doberman leaped for his throat. He grabbed the doberman's head when the dog was in midair and snapped its neck so that the dog's snout faced backwards. He dropped the dead dog to the ground. He looked at the other nine dobermans and growled. They walked away. The leader smiled. He continued walking forward, joined by the other two.

The leader stopped about one hundred yards from the Mausolus vampires. He went bumpy. "Lay on, men. Show em wut how real vampires foit." The two groups of vampires closed with each other, Amur and the Scotsman leading the way for their respective bands.

The Scotsman spoke to Amur. "Appears you're in command here. I say we do this honorably. Single combat. Losing side walks. Saves a lot of time and trouble."

"A duel," Amur replied. "How quaint. I would, but protocol forbids it. Duels are between equals. You are my inferior."

"Is that a challenge?"

"No, it's the truth. You are inferior to me and to each and every one of my men."

"We'll see bout that. What's yar name, coolt boy?"

"Amur."

"Never heard of it."

"What's yours, BOY?"

"Name's Pitt. Perhaps you heard of me."

"Sorry stranger. Pity I have to kill you, Pitt. No it's not. Let's get this over with," he says, looking bored. Pitt threw a right jab, which Amur dodged. He threw a left hook. Amur didn't dodge this. He just made his head disappear for a fraction of a second. Pitt looked stunned. "As I said, you're inferior." Amur kicked Pitt in the head, and he went down. Amur looked at his other fighters. They were just watching. "A little help? Dispatch the low-lifes!" They went into action. Pitt got up. He couldn't see Amur, because Amur was behind him. He tapped Pitt on the shoulder. Pitt turned and was floored by a right hook. He decided to focus on an easier target. Amur figured his seven could take these three on their own. He watched and evaluated their performance.

Pitt stood up and looked around at the scene. "Outgunned, outclassed, outnumbered. That's how I like it." He tore through the Mausolus vampires, kicking, punching, throwing everything in his path. "Pick em off one by one," he told his two fighters. He matched up against one of the Mausolans. Blocked its punches, dodged its kicks, then counterattacked. When his opponent grew weakened, he pulled out a stake. His opponent look frightened. Pitt smiled. "You fear death. That's why I can kill you." The vampire charged him. Pitt stepped out of the way and kicked it as it ran by. The vampire turned around. Pitt kicked him in the stomach. Then he punched him in the stomach andstaked him.

Amur looked worried. He gasped at the sight of one of his men being felled by a common vampire. Pitt noticed this, and walked in Amur's direction. "Who's inferior now? There are graveyards on every continent filled with the bones of men who didn't take me seriously! I'm going to kill every last one of your men, and you're going to watch, and then I'm going to make you swallow their dust!"

Amur returned to looking calm. His face was resolute. "Vampires should not run around with pointy wooden things in their hands." Then he sped by Pitt and entered the fray. Pitt looked confused. He rejoined the fight. One of his men was getting clobbered by several Mausolus. He went to work on them. One of them threw a punch. Pitt ducked, went behind the vampire, picked him up, and threw him feet first into another Mausolus. An enemy tried a roundhouse kick. Pitt ducked and swept the vampire's legs out from under him. Then Pitt leaped into the air and kicked a fourth Mausolus to the ground.

Amur went to work on the other vampire. He let this vampire hit him a few times. When Amur looked whooped, the vampire pulled out his stake. Amur smiled. When the vampire tried to stake Amur, he grabbed the vampire's wrist, flipped him to the ground, and took the stake from him. While the vampire was still on his back, Amur dusted him. Pitt realized one of his men was down. He looked at Amur. Amur held up the stake. "Told you," he joked. Pitt was enraged. He charged at Amur and leaped in the air. It look like he was going to try a flying drop kick to Amur's head. Instead, he wrapped his legs around Amur's right arm while still in midair. He grabbed the stake between his two heels. Pitt went to the ground, flipped the stake up in the air, stood up, and caught it. Then he turned around and threw the stake into the distance. "Care to have another go at it," Amur asked Pitt, thinking the Scotsman was vainglorious and rash enough to accept the challenge.

"And let my other man be ripped apart by six of your underlings?"

"You're not as stupid as you look," Amur remarked.

"Nice try," Pitt responded, thinking Amur's comment was another attempt to provoke him. He ran away from Amur and went back to pummelling the lesser vampires. His goal was to keep his other vampire from being double-teamed. Pitt did not get bogged down in single combat. He moved around, knocking down one vampire and then leaving him to go after another. He would just keep pounding them until he found an opening, an easy stake. Then he found it. A vampire tried to kick Pitt in the head. He ducked and slipped behind his opponent. Then he swept this vampire's other leg out from under him. The vampire flew in the air and fell backward, Pitt held his stake, point upward, about a foot off the ground. The vampire fell down and got dusted.

Amur whistled and backed up. The five other Mausolus joined him. "What's happening," Ian asked Pitt.

"They're finally taking us seriously."

"They're scared."

"Precisely. Now I've been working real hard to get you one-on-ones, but you're not producing. Let's see you get to staking." The Mausolus vampires came back. Amur went at Pitt, followed by four vampires. The other Mausolus went to fight Ian. Pitt smiled. "Five to one, one on five, no of you gets out alive."

"This time I'm not letting you run away from me," Amur replied. He stood in front of Pitt, but neither was willing to make the first move.

"Take you best shot," Pitt told him.

"Maybe later." One of the other Mausoleans punched Pitt. Then another. He went down, and they quadruple-teamed him, kicking him while he was down. Pitt struggle to his feet. He punched one, but another punched him from the side. He hit that vampire, but was kicked by another. He knew he couldn't take them all at once, not when they were fighting as a team. So he backpedaled, creating some space between him an his attackers. They charged at him. He grabbed the heads of two Mausoleans and banged them together. They went down. Now there were two left standing – one to Pitt's right, and one to his left. He knocked down the one on his right with a spin kick. The other vamp tried to kick him in the head. Pitt ducked. Then he kicked this vampire in the chin. He looked at his handiwork and smiled. Amur came from behind, kicked Pitt, picked him up, and tossed him 20 feet in the air.

Pitt crashed to the ground and stood up to face Amur. "Please tell these aren't your best men," Pitt joked. "Coos if they are, your little coolt is a joke."

"You will not defeat my Brethren by killing them." Amur responded. "You are fighting a lost cause. I will grant you this – you know how to lose with style." He punched Pitt in the face. Pitt counterpunched. Amur blocked this and hit Pitt again. He staggered backwards. He kicked Amur in the chest, but his foot went right through him. Amur tried to kick him. Pitt ducked. He saw Amur preparing to throw a right jab. He punched Amur in the face as Amur tried to land his own blow. This time Pitt connected. Amur threw a left cross. Pitt did not try to block it. Instead, he threw a left jab. Both fighters landed their blows almost simultaneously. Amur tried a spin kick. Before he could spin all the way around, Pitt kicked him in the head. Amur fell backwards to the ground.

"Gaut it! Gaut it," Pitt exulted. "The hocus-pocus, it's your shield. Can't hide behind your shield and stab with your sword at the same time, con ya?"

"That will not matter when your other man is done for," Amur replied, slightly nervous his crude opponent had figured this out. He was looking at Ian, who was hard-pressed by the Mausolus he was fighting.

Pitt was getting impatient. "Aye! For fooks sake Ian! Finish the joob!" Ian got kicked in the face and fell to the ground. He stood up, but was kicked in the stomach. He took two right jabs to the face. Then a left hook spun him around. As he spun around, he pulled his stake out of his sleeve. When he came full circle, the Mausolus moved in to deliver more punishment. At that moment, Ian staked him. The Mausolus never saw it coming. "That's the way laddie! Show um wot yu got." Two Mausolus charged at Ian. The other two, along with Amur, went after Pitt. He tried a backflip kick to kick the two fighters at once. Their heads vanished just as his feet met them, and he stood up to find he had done no damage. He punched one of them. The other one knocked Pitt down. While he was on his knees, Amur kicked him in the mouth.

Pitt got up and backpedaled for space. He looked to his right and saw Ian in trouble. One of the Mausolus had taken his stake, and the other one held Ian from behind. Pitt ran to his aid, flying through the air and landing a powerful kick on the vampire holding the stake. The blow sent the Mausolus rolling along the ground. He stopped rolling twenty feet from Pitt. Ian, who was still being held from behind, ducked, and Pitt hit the other Mausolus in the mouth. He let go of Ian. Ian kicked him in the face. The vampire ran away from the two of them. Amur and his four remaining fighters regrouped. "If we're together, no way they can take us," Ian told Pitt.

"Did you hear that," Pitt asked Ian.

"Hear what," Ian wondered. Pitt turned around.

"The Slayer."

"Where? I don't see her."

"She's here. Let's go. Fall bock." Pitt and Ian ran to the mansion and climbed on the roof. They leaned against the chimney and looked down at the Mausolus. "Best shew in toon," Pitt told Ian.

Buffy walked onto the property with Patrick. In each hand he held wooden poles about 30 inches long. At the bottom end of the poles were stakes. At the top masses of white rags. "Your stakes are a little too big," Buffy told him.

"That's because they are torches. Fire one end, pointy on the other."

"Not a bad idea," Buffy responded. She got a good look at the enemy. "I only see five. You said there were eight."

"The other three could be lying in wait," Patrick surmised.

"You sure you're comfortable with this," Buffy asked.

"Don't worry. I have a secret weapon. Don't asked me to tell you what it is. Then it wouldn't be a secret." Buffy didn't bother paying attention to Patrick's bluster.

"Don't try to be the hero," she cautioned.

"No chance of that," he joked back.

"I'll deal with the Slayer," Amur told his fighters. "You four can feast on the other one." He approached Buffy. "Now we'll see what you're made of," he told her. She kicked him in the stomach. Then the face. Amur staggered backward. Buffy landed four punches. Then a spin kick. Amur threw a right jab. Buffy blocked the blow by grabbing his right fist in her left hand. She punched him twice in the face with her right hand. Then a left hook. Then she staked him in the heart. It felt like nothing was there, like she was stabbing air. "Now we'll see what I'm made of," Amur told Buffy before connecting with a powerful left uppercut. She flew back through the air.

When the four Mausolus approached, Patrick lit his torches. The vamps became more cautious. Slowly they surrounded him. Patrick waved the torches around to keep them at a distance. "That's right. Fire bad. Fire very bad," he nervously taunted while rotating back and forth, making sure none of the four snuck up on him. With the two torches he was able to ward off attacks from all sides. "By the way gentleman, I'm just the decoy. The diversion. The one who distracts you while the Slayer stakes you in the back. One of the Mausolus looked over at Buffy and Amur. Patrick thrust one of his torches at the distracted vampire. He flinched and moved out of the way. This allowed Patrick to escape from the circle. "Made you look." He backpedaled and ran around, trying to keep the vamps at a safe distance. After a little while, the vamps got smart and cut him off on all sides. Once again, he was surrounded. Patrick knew it was only a matter of time before one of them took him out.

Buffy got up. Amur slowly closed with her. He was grateful to finally be fighting a worthy opponent. "I bet you're thinking, I need a bigger stake.' Sorry, I'm not a cloven-hoofed missing link. Or maybe you think I'm going to try to drown you in a very shallow puddle of water. Sorry. Not a bat-faced moron." Buffy tried to kick him in the face. He dodged the blow. He threw a punch. She blocked it. She threw a punch. He blocked it, grabbed hold of her, and tossed her over his shoulder. She landed about ten feet behind him. He turned around. "You want to know something? I'm starting to like this. The bloodlust. The visceral pleasure. I know it's a guilty pleasure, but aren't they the best kind?" She charged him. He threw her again. "Why so impatient? I'm trying to have a civilized conversation with you, Buffy. You remember the bat-faced moron, the False Master, don't you? Aurelius. Or as I called him, Ari. The Brethren was most pleased when you killed that miserable old bore. Had forty days and nights of celebrations. Sorry we never got around to thanking you." Buffy threw a few more punches. Amur stood still. They went right through him. "Buffy, it takes two to have a fight. Relax. Save your strength. Now the False Master – or Ari as I called him when I journeyed down to the Underworld with Rama and Manu to tease and torment him – Ari made a Faustian bargain."

"He sold his soul for eternal life," Buffy asked. "All you vamps do that."

"No Buffy. That's called getting something for nothing. Ari made a trade. He made himself stronger than any vampire. Yet as he became physically stronger, he also became mentally weaker. Brawn for brains. That was his Faustian bargain. Poor bastard had the intellect of an eight-year old." Buffy went to kick him. Amur ducked. He threw a punch. She moved out of the way. Buffy connected with a flying kick. Amur stumbled backwards. She threw a punch. He blocked it and hit her in the face, then the stomach. He picked Buffy up and threw her to the ground. He closed in. She kicked him in the face and sprang back to her feet. He threw a left and a right. She blocked both punches by grabbing his arms. He head-butted her in the nose. She backed up and circled right. She tried a kick. He ducked and tried a kick of his own. She blocked it. Amur threw a right cross. Buffy ducked, kicked Amur in the stomach, and landed an uppercut to his chin.

Patrick looked over and noticed Buffy was getting nowhere with her opponent. "Buffy! Start by taking out some of the easy marks! These four can't take me. ME! Think what you could do to them." Buffy ran toward Patrick. They turned to face her. Patrick snuck up behind on of them an lit his shirt on fire. The vamp quickly extinguished it. Buffy went to work, knocking down vamps left and right.

"Look at her. Jus loik me," Pitt told Ian. "Cept withoot the flair." One of the vamps grabbed Buffy by her shirt. She head-butted him. Then she picked him up, threw him down face-first, and staked him in the back. While she was bent down dusting this vamp, another Mausolus tried to kick her. She grabbed his foot and threw him to the ground. Two vamps were left standing. She punched one of the in them face in the face with a left hook, and hit the other run with a right elbow when it tried to blindside her from behind. Buffy turned around and kicked that vampire twice in the face with her right foot, then knocked him down with a left spin kick to the chest. Another vampire ran at her. She turned, stepped out of the way, and threw him to the ground. There was one vampire standing. She stood between him and his Brethren. She ran at him. He evaded her and fled to join the other two Mausolus. Clearly they were intimidated.

Patrick moved towards Amur. "You're mine, overbite! Prepare to die, again! Fear me while you still have the chance!" He charged Amur, flailing his torches wildly. Amur took a few steps back and dodged them. Patrick thrust his right torch towards Amur. He put his left hand on the flame, extinguishing it. Then he pulled the stick out of Patrick's right hand and threw it to the ground. Patrick gripped the other torch with both hands. He raised it over his head and swung downward. Amur reached up, grabbed Patrick's hands, and blew out the torch with his breath. Then he tattooed Patrick's face with a right cross. Patrick fell to the ground. He got on his knees. While still grabbing the unlit torch, he crossed both hands as if in prayer. "Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me. Please God, don't let me die." Then he sped up his delivery. "HailMaryfullofgracetheLordiswith thee HolyMarymotherofGodprayforusnowandatthehourofourdeath." Amur laughed. He bent downward to bit Patrick in the neck. Patrick flipped the unlit torch around, so that the pointy end faced up. He stuck it into Amur's heart. "Amen," Patrick told him. Amur looked down. He put his hands to his chest. His mouth was agape with bewilderment. He turned to dust.

Patrick stood up and raised both fists over his head. "Awww yeeeah! How you like me now? You see what I can do. Who wants to be next? Cum on!" With their leader dead, the three remaining Mausolus fled into the Grove where the Temple was. "That's right. Run for your undead lives! Suckers!" Patrick calmed down a bit.

"How did you do it," Buffy asked. She couldn't believe it herself.

"I used the secret weapon. Hubris. A Mausolus doesn't put up his defenses unless he feels threatened."

"So what you're saying is he thought you were a pathetic loser."

"And now he's sawdust. I did what you couldn't. Don't mean to knock your prowess. But that's exactly why you could never do it. He respects you. He'd be ready for you every time."

"Fine, I'll admit it. Nice work. I'm impressed. Happy now?"

"In pain." He grabbed his left cheek. "The numbness is gone, and the pain, ow, ow, he really hit me. Had to let him for the plan to work, but, ow, I think he broke my face."

"Can you go on?"

"What choice do I have? In less than two hours I'll feel nothing. I'll BE nothing. And I'm beginning to see how this demon-fighting thing can fun when it doesn't result in death or maiming." Patrick picked up his two torches and walked with Buffy towards the grove. "Nice job yourself," he told her. "You killed one. I killed one. Granted, mine was the stronger one. I mean, that was the Eighth Degree! The leader! Course I'm bet you handled the quadruple-team much better than I did."

"I'm sure I'll save your life a few more times tonight to make up for it," Buffy replied sarcastically. "Hopefully Xander and Willow are making as much progress as we are."


	8. Xander and Willow Go Down

Xander walked through the sewer, looking at his GPS readout. "This is it. This is the back. This is where we start." He turned on two large lamps and put them up high so they illuminated the area. "We got all the tools, right," Xander asked.

Willow carried a large duffel bag. She dropped it and its very heavy contents. "Three trips, but we got it all. Xand, couldn't you have carried more, seeing how this is your gear and you're the man and I'm still sick and not even at full strength?"

"I carried on the first two trips."

"I carried on all three," Willow responded.

"This time I had to spot the location. That's essential. We dig up the wrong area, we got nothing."

Willow gasped for air and wiped the sweat off her brow. "Explain to me again how you're going to take the Temple down. This is barely enough TNT to blow up a tree stump."

"I told you I could only scrounge up 20 pounds from the warehouse. You can't just walk off with large quantities of high explosives. Besides, it's not how much you have. It's how you use it." Willow snickered. Xander realized his unintentional entendre. "What I mean is, even if I had 500 pounds, I couldn't just blast through thousands of cubic feet of solid dolomite. The key is to create cracks around the perimeter of the walls. It's like you're standing on a frozen pond, and someone saws a circle through the ice you're standing on. You fall through."

"Did you get this idea from Loony Tunes? It sounds suspiciously like something Bugs Bunny once did to Elmer Fudd."

"I don't joke about construction."

"Technically, this is destruction."

"The point is, I take my work seriously. Everything goes as planned, the back half of that building will tumble down towards these empty sewer pipes. The Temple will split in two, and the world will be saved, yet again, by me."

"I have to take some credit for that one since by refusing to end the world I did play an essential role in saving it. However, I don't think you can defeat these guys by telling them I love you.' But it would be funny to see you try."

"I'm not the one who tells vampires I love them. Demons, ex-demons, future demons, witchy women, sure. But not vampires."

"Witchy WOMEN! Alexander Harris, is there someone you haven't told me about?"

"Well, Amy did briefly have a thing for me, but we had a fight and she turned Buffy into a rat and I realized it could never work." Willow realized he was joking. Xander got out a large, diamond-tipped saw.

"What am I supposed to do," Willow asked.

Xander got out a third lamp. "Hold this up to where I'm cutting." He went to work slicing through the rock.

Directly above them, Manu and Rama were getting to work. The walls and floor were covered in geometric designs, and the ceiling was gilded in gold leaf. It shimmered in the magical light. The Twin Masters sat facing each other in the middle of the rectangular space. To the left and right of both of them were groups of four columns. They sat on what appeared to be invisible benches. In the back of the room was an altar table flanked by four columns. The vampires had already made sacrifices and performed spells at the table. Now they began the endgame. After some chanting, a small point of red light appeared in midair between them. "Gyre, gyre flicker and fire, make your turn, and the world shall burn." The red light expanded sideways to form a hollow cone. Then it disappeared, and a blue point of light appeared in the center of the bottom of the cone. From the perspective of the altar, the red light expanded to form a circle, and then collapsed in on itself to form a blue point where the red point had been. Rama and Manu smiled. "There's our baby," Rama announced.

Patrick relit his torches and entered the Sacred Grove behind Buffy. The Grove was circular, 150 feet in diameter, with the Temple in the center. Buffy and Patrick entered at the front, about 50 feet from the doors of the Temple. They did not see any vampires. Buffy knew an ambush when she saw one. She looked around at all the pine trees. Perfect cover for an ambush. But the Mausoleans were lying in wait on top of the Temple roof. While Buffy scanned the trees, she had her back to the Temple. A vampire leaped down and kicked her from behind. She fell on her face and turned over to look up. The vampire tried to punch her. She rolled out of the way and kicked the vampire in the knee. Then she scissored her legs to get up. She tried to kick the vampire in the chest. He backed up about ten feet, as if afraid.

He was just setting her up. A second vampire leaped from the roof and kicked Buffy in the face. She flew back and fell down. Both vampires moved in to do more damage. Patrick ran to help. But the third vampire leaped out and kicked him in the back. He fell on his face and let go of the torches, which landed on the grass a few feet in front of him. This started a small fire, which scared the Mausolus. It also scared Patrick, because the flames were less than two feet from his face. He scrambled to his feet and ran away so that the flames were between him and the vampire. It was February, which was neither the hottest nor the driest time of the year. The flames quickly died down, and Patrick reached in to grab his torches as soon as possible, first degree burns be dammed. He then lit the grass in an arc in front of where he stood as a defense against the vampire. Patrick moved a safe distance back from the brush fire.

The two vampires hit and kicked Buffy while she was down. She struggled to get to her feet. When she did, she grabbed both vampires and bashed their heads together. The she punched one with her left fist and the other with her right, the punches thrown simultaneously. Both staggered backward. Buffy went on the offensive. She gave one a spin kick in the stomach, then turned and blocked the other's punch. She kicked this vampire in the stomach, then leveled him with a right uppercut. She elbowed the other one as he came at her from behind, then kicked him in the head. The third Mausolus noticed his two Brethren were in trouble, and abandoned Patrick to join them. Now it was three-on-one.

The three approached with swagger to spare. Buffy realized she was in trouble. She slowly backed up towards the trees. When they made a move to surround her, she counterattacked, and punched the one on her right twice. The one in the center punched Buffy, and the one on her left kicked her twice. She went down. By now the flames had died down to embers, and Patrick could see Buffy's plight. He ran at the vampires from behind as they pummelled Buffy when she rose to her feet. He approached the one that was on Buffy's left, and threw the torch in his right hand at the vampire. It hit him in the back, setting his shirt on fire. The torch fell to his feet, and set the bottom of his trousers on fire.

Buffy was on one knee, trying to block the vampire's blows. They noticed one of their Brethren was on fire, and pulled back. Buffy hit the one on her right with a left hook, and the one on her left with a right hook. They went down for a moment. During that moment, Buffy looked at Patrick and held out her arms. He tossed her the other torch, forgetting for a moment how insane it was to throw a flaming stick at someone in order to help them. But she was the Slayer, and she caught it at the non-flamy end. The two vampires stood up. The third vampire was incinerated. Buffy held the torch in her right hand and smiled. They fled to the Temple's entrance to make their last stand. Patrick picked up the other torch, which was still lit, and looked around for any surprises. There were those three missing Mausolus.

Buffy slowly closed with her victims. "I've had a long night, and I really don't like you guys, so forgive me for dispensing with the pre-Slay banter." Then she chuckled. "You guys start out with the flying dino-demons and giant snakes and the big heavy metal-guy and the vanishing vampire and a phalanx of warrior vampire monks. And what's left? You two pathetic hairless Hari Krishna wannabes. That's all."

"Killing us will bring you no closer to success."

"You cannot stop our Masters," the other added.

"And even if all that's true, I'll still kill you for being so annoying." She swung her torch at one vampire, then at the other. As they avoided the flames, they were being driven further apart from one another. Buffy was actually using the same tactic the snake tried on Xander and Patrick, which was entirely coincidental. When they were far enough apart, Buffy closed with the vamp on her right. She held the torch over her head with both hands. As the vampire reached up to block it, she kicked him in the stomach, then the mouth, and the landed a spin kick to his nose. He backed away. She shuffled forward, ready for the kill. The other vampire charged at her from behind. She knew this, but kept looking straight ahead. She waited until the other vampire was right behind her. Then she thrust her right arm backwards, piercing the vampire's chest with the torch. Fire quickly consumed him.

She turned to face the last Mausolus. "And then there was one."

"There are other vampires on this estate, Slayer. They lie in wait, until you are weak. Lesser vampires than my Brethren. Mere scavengers. But I know when it comes to our breed you don't discriminate on the basis of quality."

"Didn't know your breed had quality," Buffy retorted. She threw a right cross. He blocked it. She hit him in the stomach with a left, then threw him over her shoulder. He hit the ground but quickly got up.

"So in your mind we're all equal," he told her, dodging a kick to his face and backpedaling. "Does that mean you want to spread you legs for all of us?" Buffy leaped in the air. The vampire moved out of the way of her flying kick. He punched her in the face. She hit him three times in the face. He staggered backward, still smiling at his little joke which Buffy had walked right into. She hit him in the face with a left and a right. He landed a right cross, blocked her left kick, and swept her right leg out from under her. He tried to kick her while she was down, but Buffy rolled out of the way and got to her feet. "I don't mean you want to spread for all of us at the same time. You're not that bad a girl, now are you?" She ran at him and hit him four times in the face. He kicked her in the stomach. She blocked his follow-up kick and hit him with a roundhouse to the chest. He fell on his back. She approached. He kicked her in the chin and vaulted to his feet. "Now I, myself, am a celibate vampire. But isn't that your favorite kind?" He saw the look of rage on Buffy's face and knew that he had landed a zinger to die for. In the long view of history, a Vampire killing a Slayer was commonplace. A vampire hurting a Slayer's feelings – that was far more rare.

Buffy ran at him and tackled the vampire, knocking the vampire on his back. While he was down, she hit him eight times in the face. This was entirely gratuitous, done out of anger. She picked him up and threw him into the side of the Temple. He stayed on his feet and staggered down the stairs towards Buffy. "You cannot stop us," he told her. She staked him.

"Did the cooltist try to rat us out," Pitt asked Ian with regards to the vamp's comment that there were other, non-Mausolus vamps nearby.

"What does it matter," Ian responded. "We're gonna get the Slayer anyway, when she's tired and weakened by all this fighting, right?"

"Never take on a desperate Slayer, Ian."

"So you're afraid of her?"

"I'm afraid of anyone who has noothing to lose."

Buffy bent over with her hands on her knees, trying to recover her breath. Pitt picked up his two torches, relit them, and stuck then in the ground off to the side of the Temple, for later. He paced around to deal with his nerves and tried to stay relaxed. "I think if the other three were around they'd have shown up by now," he told Buffy.

"I agree," she replied, standing up straight with her hands on her hips. She was sore all over from the pounding she had received from vampires and the Abraxas.

"Is this a normal night on the Hellmouth for you," Patrick asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"This more like a month of big scaries crammed into one night."

"Four hours of one night," Patrick replied.

"I'll say this for the Mausolus – they don't keep you waiting. Which is good, cause we don't have that much time."

"So now what? We wait for Xander's sapping operation to have its effect?"

"What's the time?"

"Half past ten."

"I got an idea. While we wait, I'll break in there myself."

Willow held the chisel up to the wall. Xander swung the sledgehammer. After twelve swings he stopped. Willow was relieved. Throughout the hammering, she flinched out of fear an errant hammer stroke would hit her head. Now that he had made a hole, Xander lengthened and widened it with a jackhammer. Then he looked around, checking his work. "Someone else has been tunnelling. WIth a jackhammer, it looks like. Sloppily, I might add."

"Were they trying to do what you're doing?"

"If they were, they went about it all wrong. The hole's in the wrong spot, extending in the wrong direction. It's actually going away from the foundation. Looks more like an access tunnel. Maybe some vamp's trying to connect this tunnel to another one, cut down on his subterranean commute time or something. Xander pulled out a longer chisel and handed it to Willow. She wedged it several feet into a fissure he had already cut. He hit it six times, trying to lengthen his cut to reach the foundation. "Looks like we got the back all set up. Now all we have to do is finish off the sides." He went back to his tools and found a large drill, the kind whose bit could bore holes in stone. "How much time I got?"

"An hour. Maybe a little more."

"Should be done in twenty. Have the charges in place in thirty."

"This had better work, cause I have a hot date with Zooey tomorrow night, and I'd hate to miss it on account of the world being gone." Xander was a little jarred by the reference to Zooey and the thought of her with Willow. He lost control of the drill and turned it off for a moment. "Sorry. Didn't mean for my lesbian talk to distract you from penetrating the Earth with that long, rigid instrument."

"That's okay. Wait a minute. Penetrating, long rigid instrument? Just what are you trying to imply?"

"Es un chiste, Xandy. Besides, don't you have a date tomorrow with Elise? It's Saturday, you guys ARE going out, so I figured"

"Dangit! I knew that in the midst of all this world-saving and giant snake-killing I forgot about something. Gotta call her tomorrow. If there is a tomorrow. It's been more than a week since I saw her last."

"Why so long?"

"We've both been busy. She lives 20 miles away, which for me is a long-distance relationship. And I guess I've been scared. I admit it. I look at my history, and I worry."

"Xander, I've told you before, you're not jinxed."

"Maybe not. But there is a pattern. One very painful breakup is an isolated event. Three is a jinx. But two is definitely a pattern."

"Xander, look at me and Buffy. All our breakups have been painful and involved bloodshed, plus the occasional loss of life. It's not you. It's this town. But Elise isn't from this town. And neither is Zooey."

"How are you two doing? You seemed worried the other night."

"I think she just wants some attention. And some hot, sweaty lovin'."

"Well who doesn't want some of that?"

"Looks like that's it for the vamps," Buffy told Patrick after she had caught her breath. "Only thing left to do is storm the Temple." She walked back to the trees and found a large rock 12 inches in diameter. She easily picked up the massive stone and carried it up to the bronze double doors. She slammed the rock into the spot where the doors met, and made a large dent. She hit it a second, third and fourth time, making the dent even bigger, and opening a gap in between the doors. With her fifth blow, Buffy forced the outer set of doors open. But almost immediately, the outer doors slammed shut again. A powerful blast of air knocked Buffy ten feet backwards. She landed on her back, still holding the heavy rock, the weight of which was absorbed by her ribcage when she hit the ground. She dropped the rock to the side and stood up. "Oh well. I'll just have to find another way." The dents she had made in the doors had disappeared.

"Buffy. Something's happening," Patrick announced nervously. The black pilasters at either side of the Temple facade had turned a glowing red. "I think you tripped its alarm system," he told her since the glowing happened immediately after she tried to break down the door. Something was coming out of the pilasters. Within 15 seconds, two giant red demons appeared. They were each about ten feet tall, built like grizzlies, covered in red fur. They had long claws and two giant sabre-teeth for upper incisors. On the palms of their hands were black quills about two inches long. Their heads were in no way bear-like, with flat noses, small nostrils, and a thin, elongated face. On top of their skull were two rows of small, hard green bumps which extended down to the back of the neck.

"I should have expected more surprises," Patrick said as he picked of the two torches. He tossed one of them to Buffy. She took the demon to their left. Patrick tried to hold off and distract the one on the right for the time being. The demon stood upright, towering over Buffy. It swung for her head with its left and right paws. She used her torch to burn the quills on its palm, but got scratched on her left cheek by two of the demon's right hand claws. She moved in the kick it in the stomach, then quickly moved back out of range. The demon bent over and lunged at her face-first, coming at her with its six-inch long saber teeth. She moved back and to the right, avoiding the attack and giving the demon a little flame to its face. Buffy was backing into the Temple steps, and didn't want to get trapped. So she moved out towards the edge of the Grove, away from the Temple. The demon pursued slowly on all fours, letting out several quick, loud grunts.

Patrick held his torch upward and outward, waving it back and forth in a large arc, while moving around to try to confuse the demon. He believed that if he stood still he would be an easy target. At first the demon held back, following Patrick with its head but staying back from the flame. It stood on two feet, but its knees were bent and its back slouched over. Soon the demon stood straight up. It swatted at Patrick with its paws. He ducked and stepped back. When he saw an opening Patrick lunged forward and set the demon's stomach hair on fire. But the demon quickly put out the flames with the backs of its paws. It swung again, and the quills on its right palm punctured Patrick's left soldier like a dozen pins. The demon swung its left paw. Patrick flinched and tried to turn away from the blow, but his right shoulder blade was slashed by its claws. He backed away some more, using his torch to cover his retreat and deter a sudden attack.

Buffy's demon, which was down on all fours, leaped at her. She jumped in the air and landed on the beast's back. She plunged her torch into its back, penetrating the skin. The demon stood up and threw Buffy off. She slammed back-first into the Temple's wall about 12 feet in the air, tumbled down the stairs, and rolled down to the grass. The demon's back was on fire. But it wasn't as bad as Buffy expected. She lit him up good. Most demons would be covered in flame by now. But the flames had not spread, and the demon rolled on its back a few times to smother them. Buffy tried to ambush the supine demon, but it kicked her away. She gave up on fire, since these demons seemed pretty fireproof. She dropped the torch to the ground, stepped on its flame to put it out, and picked up what was now a 30-inch stake.

The demon charged towards her and stood on its hind legs, reaching out for her head with its saber teeth, as if trying to bite her head off. She stepped back and kicked it in the head. It swung for her head with its paws. Buffy ducked, lunged forward, and before the demon could react staked it through the heart. The demon vanished immediately. Buffy turned to look at Patrick. Rather than run away, since the demon could easily catch him, Patrick went for the demon's chest while it stood upright. This was smart, since Patrick was too close to the demon for it to swipe him with its long arms or bite him with its mouth, which was several feet above Patrick. The demon fell on top of Patrick. He stuck his torch against its belly, but the bulk of the beast's body weighed down on the torch and extinguished it. It also weighed down on Patrick. The demon tried to maneuver back a few feet to get its head down to Patrick's so he could devour him.

It was at this point Buffy turned her attention to this demon. She ran over, leaped on its back, and staked it through the heart. The long stake went almost completely through the demon. So when it disappeared, the point was inches from Patrick's body. Buffy quickly pulled it back. Patrick quickly rolled out of the way, so that Buffy fell on the ground rather than on top of Patrick. It would have been an accidental yet charged and intimate moment, the sort Xander or Spike or Riley or plenty of other men would have cherished – Buffy saving their life and falling right on top of them. But Buffy wasn't Patrick's type, so it would have just been awkward.

Buffy and Patrick slowly got to their feet. "Ever seen that kind before," Patrick asked.

"Nope. Can't recall any. And I'd remember a red saber-toothed grizzly with porcupine palms." She looked at Patrick and saw he was bleeding from two large wounds. "You're hurt. Is it bad?"

"Strangely, no. Hurts a lot less than getting slugged by the head Mausolus. Just glad the vamps are dead now that I'm dripping in blood. I'm practically vampire bait by now." He knew vampires were like sharks and could smell large quantities of blood from a distance. "At this point, after everything that's happened, I consider myself lucky only to be scratched and poked in a few places. How you holding up?"

"Good to go." She limped a bit when she walked from all the excessive pounding.

Patrick realized something. "There are four pilasters. We only saw two demons."

"So you think," Buffy began before being interrupted by screaming from behind the Temple.

"Buffy! Buffy! Where are you," Dawn was yelling.

"Dawn," Buffy screamed as she ran to the rear of the Temple.


	9. Twilight of the Bad Guys

1Dawn arrived on the scene just in time to face two giant red saber-toothed demons all by herself. She pulled out her sword and started swinging to keep them at arm's length. The demon on her left charged her. Dawn stuck her her sword out and it penetrated the demon's skull as the beast knocked her down. The sword went clear through its head without killing the demon. But it did get up off of Dawn. She stood up and slashed it in the face. This wound quickly disappeared, as had the previous wound Dawn inflicted. She turned to her right. The other demon swung at her with its left paw. She chopped off the paw with her long sword before it could wound her. But then the first demon swiped at her from behind, sticking its palm quills in her back. Dawn went down.

It was at this point Dawn screamed. While she was down on her knees, the demon in front of her, whose paw she had severed, came at her with its saber teeth. While still down, she swung her sword, and the blade clanged against the teeth. It didn't cause the demon any damage, but it kept Dawn from getting chomped on and bought her time to get to her feet. Buffy appeared on Dawn's far left, behind the uninjured demon. She saw Dawn being assailed by two beasts at once. "Dawny I'm here," she yelled out. When the healthy demon turned to face Buffy, she ran up and kicked the tall creature's legs, tripping it up. It landed on its back with a loud, ground-rattling thud. Then Buffy ran over to help Dawn with the other demon.

"How do you kill these things," Dawn asked.

"Stabbing them in the heart seems to work." The demon reached its right arm out to keep Buffy away, then shot its head at Dawn to try to bite her. She moved back. Buffy heard the other demon moving. She glanced back and saw it standing up behind Dawn. The demon in front of Dawn took a swipe at her head. She ducked. At that moment, when Dawn was crouched down, Buffy ran at her, leaped off her back with her left foot, and flew at the demon behind Dawn. Using Dawn as a vault allowed Buffy to get high enough in the air to kick the ten foot-tall demon in the face with her right foot. It fell to the ground.

Meanwhile, Patrick moved behind the demon which was in front of Dawn. He leaped on its back, hoping to stake it. The demon quickly threw him off, and he landed in the pine trees. But this attack distracted the demon long enough for Dawn to charge in and stab it through the heart with her sword. Dawn breathed several huge sighs of relief and fell to her knees for a moment to rest and recover her bearings. At least killing this demon was not too messy.

Buffy had knocked the other demon on its back. She got on top and tried to stake it, but the demon scratched her in her left temple, just outside of her left eye. She stepped back and the demon got up on all fours and charged Buffy, its giant jaws open and ready to crush her to bits. She kicked it in the head, stopping the first charge. She shuffled counterclockwise to get at the beast from the side. It turned and charged her again. Buffy stepped out of the way, leaped in the air, and kicked it on the left side of its head. But she kicked it as it charged forward, and the monster's momentum spun Buffy around in midair, as if she had tried to kick a charging rhino. Buffy landed on her back. The demon turned round and leaped on top of her. She pulled out her long stake (one of Patrick's former torches) and put it through the demon's heart. She stabbed the demon so hard that the tip of the stake came out its back end. For a moment Buffy groaned under the weight of the creature. Then it disappeared.

Buffy slowly rolled over and got up. Dawn had risen to her feet by then. Patrick emerged from the trees, bruised by his fall (the demon tossed him more than 20 feet in the air) and scratched by the branches and pine needles he fell into. "I'm so sorry," Buffy told Dawn. "I'm so sorry I couldn't help you sooner." She hugged Dawn, whom she was very proud of. First the giant snake, then the demon double-team.

"I thought we were going to fight vampires," Dawn replied. "Where are the vampires? I miss them. They're small, with tiny fangs, and no claws."

"We already killed the vampires. When I tried to break into the Temple, four of those things manifested. I killed the two out front. Course Patrick helped. You had to take on two all alone."

"Only for a little while. You made it here in time." Buffy hugged Dawn again. "I'm so proud of you Dawny. You've been so brave and so tough tonight."

"We all have," Dawn modestly but truthfully replied. "I wanted to get here earlier, but it took a long time to get that slime off my skin. And I think it clogged up the shower drain. Sorry about that."

"That's okay," Buffy replied. "It so doesn't matter right now." Buffy felt the blood on Dawn's back. "You're bleeding."

Dawn looked at Buffy's face. "So are you."

"We all are," Patrick said from nearby. "Course I'm not requesting any hugs for it. I'm not the hugging type. Plus bleeding on other people isn't my favorite way of showing gratitude." Buffy and Dawn kept hugging. "I hate to spoil this touching moment of sibling bonding, but the world's still due to end in 40 minutes." Buffy and Dawn stopped hugging. Dawn looked very worried. She didn't know how close they were to the deadline, since she was heading home when Patrick told Buffy, Willow and Xander about the timeline.

"You mean we've killed all these demons and vampires and we still haven't won," Dawn exclaimed, more than a little frustrated.

"Yes, I know it's disappointing," Patrick responded. "But the demons and vampires were just diversions. If we don't get into that Temple and stop the ritual, it will all be for nothing. Dammit that's depressing."

"And breaking and entering doesn't appear to be a viable option," Buffy concluded. "Guess it's all up to Xander. Again."

"And this time a speech won't get the job done," Dawn added.

"We haven't heard from them," Patrick realized.

"Better go find them," Buffy proposed.

Xander had made his cuts and his drilling around the outer edge of the back half of the Temple. Now Willow and he were planting the four five-pound dynamite charges which would hopefully crack the bedrock all the way up to the foundation, causing gravity to pull the back end of the building into the tunnels below.

"Why do I have to place the charges," Willow asked.

"Because you're smaller and can fit up into the spaces I've cut out. Plus, if I don't lift you up there, you'll have to lift me up there."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to bring a ladder?"

"Yes, but it's too late for that. Now you know what to do. Find the small cubby hole. Place it in. I'll do the rest." Xander bent down and took Willow's feet in his hands. Then he stood up and lifted her above his head, reaching his hands up as high as he could. His arms quivered as they held Willow aloft. "Can you see it," Xander asked in between grunts.

Willow had a small flashlight in one hand and the dynamite in the other. She looked around and found the niche the explosives went into. "I see it. I'm putting it in. Got it!"

"You sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. now get me down before I get clustraphobic. I'm sandwiched in between to slabs of rock." Xander let her down and caught her just before her feet hit the ground. When he grabbed her, her face was about an inch from his. He slowly let her down to the ground.

"This isn't just a pretext to cop a feel," Willow ask and she and Xander held onto one another.

Xander let go. "How can you even ask that?"

"Just trying to lighten an otherwise grave moment. Plus, slicing through the rock with long instruments in order to place something in a hole. Come on Xander, the symbolism's pretty blatant."

"Willow, as you know, men find just about anything sexy. And of course I'm a man. But blasting bedrock is something devoid of sexiness to me. There's nothing remotely erotic about it." They went to place the second charge. Xander looked up at the fissure he was going to lift Willow into. "However, I can't speak for you on that matter. Maybe you're the one getting off on the symbolism." He lifted her up and into the breach.

"That's ridiculous," Willowy yelled from inside the breach, her voice echoing off the rock. "It's in the hole," she told Xander. He let her down and caught her again in his arms. "Why would I be turned on by penis metaphors?"

Xander smirked. "Come on, Will. You're a smart girl. I'm talking about the holes. The ones you're sticking your head into." She quickly realized what he was getting at. She looked mad and punch him in the shoulder. He took a few steps back. "Ow! That hurt!"

"Maybe I really should slap you silly for that one," she responded.

Xander laughed. "Will, you brought it up. Twice. It's your metaphor." They heard running behind them.

"Xander! Willow! Where are you guys?"

"Over here Buffy," Willow yelled back.

"Come to the light," Xander told her, since he had illuminated his work space.

Buffy soon arrived, followed quickly by Dawn and Patrick. "How soon till it's good to go," Buffy asked.

"Five, ten minutes tops," Xander assured her. "The cuts are all made. We've laid down two of the four charges. Get the other two in, and it's showtime."

"Good," Buffy replied. "You gonna set it off from down here?"

"Thought I'd do it above-ground with you guys," Xander told her. "It's a wireless remote detonator. I plan to stand right in front of the Temple when it goes down."

"How have you guys been," Willow asked. "You look hurt."

"Trust me. It could have been so much worse," Buffy told her.

"Vampires that tough?"

"There were the least of our problems," Dawn told Willow.

"How bout we wait outside, let you finish your work," Patrick proposed. "Wouldn't want to distract you." The three of them left and went up to the surface. Willow and Xander went back to work.

"How big did you say those snakes were," she asked Xander, since she missed that fight. "As big as the Mayor?"

"Twenty feet long, but there were two of them. So combined they were two-thirds as big as the Mayor. And Buffy was busy with the other giant demons, so we had to take them down on our own. Just me and Dawn and Patrick."

"Too bad I missed out on all the fun. Actually, not so bad. Don't mean to sound all cowardly. Oooh. Got it." Xander let her down and grabbed her near the ground.

"It's not like you took the day off. You were sick. You almost died. You were in so much pain. It was really scary for a while."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me. Thing is, I hardly remember any of it. I remember being sick, and feverish, but that's about it. If it hurt, I don't remember." She put in the fourth charge and climbed out of the sewer with Xander. They joined up with Buffy, Dawn and Patrick and walked back into the Grove.

The dot of blue light created by Rama and Manu had grown into a round ball six inches in diameter. It was bright blue and covered with flecks of gold and silver which gleamed and filled the interior with a glowing light. "It's beautiful," Rama said.

"It should be," Manu answered. "It is perfection incarnate. Soon it will destroy all the false Forms around us, the mere Shadows of Reality, and we shall ascend to live among the Perfected Forms in the True Reality."

"And we shall be among the Perfected Forms," Rama added.

"Along with our disciples. The moment has almost arrived. A little more work, and we shall liberate the Orb from its sanctum. Once the Perfection has escaped into the wider world, nothing can stop it from completing our mission."

The five of them stood right in front of the Temple. Xander pulled out the remote detonator. "Well. Here goes everything." He pressed a red button. They heard a few small explosions. Then the loud noise of tons of bedrock fracturing. A crack appeared at the center of the side walls. It ran up to the top of the edifice. The Temple had been split in half. The very back of the Temple started descending. It pulled the rest of the rear half down with it. It was like watching the back half of a ship break off and sink keel first into the ocean. It was going just as Xander had hoped.

Inside the collapsing Temple, the Orb stayed still. Rama and Manu made themselves incorporeal so that their bodies would not fall into the abyss. They hovered around the Orb. "It must be an earthquake," Rama speculated. His voice was full of fear. This was not supposed to be happening. Certainly not at this moment.

Manu was not worried. "The Earth does not make us tremble. We make the Earth tremble!" Rama remembered they could not only defy matter. They could control it. The walls came back up. The back half of the building rose from the ground and put itself back together. After a few seconds, there was no visible trace of what had just happened.

Xander's labor had been nullified. He was devastated and deeply perplexed. "How did they do that?"

"Magic," Willow replied, staring at the front of the Temple. Her pupils dilated until they completely covered the whites of her eyes. The ground beneath them began to tremble violently. But the trembling was confined exclusively to the Sacred Grove. However, the Temple at the center of the Grove stood still, and the ground beneath it did not shake. All five of them fell to the ground. The earth shook too violently for even Buffy to stand up. After one minute, ground stopped trembling. Everyone stood up. The situation was desperate. They had tried everything, and nothing had breached the Temple. Xander, Patrick and Dawn looked defeated. Buffy of course would not give up.

"I'm going to climb on top, try to hack in through the roof. Xander, get me your sledgehammer, or anything you have that will do the trick." Willow stood there, motionless, staring and the front door, oblivious to the panic all around her.

"Yanus. Guardian of the threshold. I humbly beseech you. Offer me your protection." The front pair of doors opened outward. The rear pair opened inward. Willow walked up the Temple steps and stood in between the doorways. The Orb's light flooded out into the front of the Grove where Buffy, Xander, Dawn and Patrick stood. They could see Manu and Rama inside. The vampires appeared to be sitting on air at either side of the orb. None of them could quite make sense of what was happening.

Rama turned to look at Willow. "How nice of you to volunteer to be the first to go."

"And how nice FOR you," Manu added. "Throw yourself at our mercy, and you have my word we will let you ascend into Paradise with us. You will be the one human we save."

"You should feel honored," Rama added.

"FOOLS," Willow bellowed.

"You're in way over you head," Manu told her arrogantly. "What we're doing is beyond magic. Do you have any idea what you are looking at?"

"You rank amateurs," Willow told them.

"You really don't know what you're looking at," Rama told her.

"No. YOU do not know what your are looking at. Your shiny plaything. You think it is our end and your beginning. But it is only YOUR end. Its womb shall become your tomb."

"How adorable," Manu said to Rama. "She thinks she's an Oracle." Willow interrupted before Rama could respond with a joke of his own.

"From the realm of desire I depart.

The realm of illusion I abjure forever.

My eyes were opened by the profoundest suffering of grieving love.

I saw the world end."

The inner set of doors slammed shut. Willow slowly backed out and down the steps. The outer set of doors slammed shut. A Loud explosion could be heard in the Grove. It came from inside the Temple. It's roof shook and its walls trembled. The rear half of the Temple sunk into the ground. Xander's work, which the Mausolus had undone, was now redone. Then the front half of the Temple crumbled and tumbled into the Earth. Nothing stood above ground level. At the level of the grass was a flat pile of rubble. Willow fell to the ground. For a few seconds, the other four just stood there, watching the dust rise from the ruins, trying to make sense of what they had witnessed. Then Xander saw Willow on the ground.

"Willow! Willow! Are you okay? Buffy, she's down!" Buffy went over to her as well. Willow's eyes were closed. She wasn't responsive.

"Willow, can you hear me," Buffy asked.

"Come on Willow. Wake up. Please wake up," Xander pleaded. Patrick and Dawn watched nervously from a little further back. After about thirty seconds, Willow began to move her head. She slowly opened her eyes. They looked normal again. She started hyperventilating.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I didn't. I swear," she told them.

"It's okay Willow," Buffy consoled. "It's okay. Everything's okay. It's over. We won. We did it."

"This wasn't the plan. This wasn't supposed to happen," Willow responded. "Not like this. I didn't want that to happen."

"Willow. Don't apologize for saving us. We're still here. That's all that matters," Xander told her.

"I don't want to go back," Willow told them. "Not to that place. Not ever. I can feel it poisoning me. The darkness. It's come back."

"No it hasn't," Buffy replied.

"It's gone," Xander added. "You're you. It's gone. You're okay." Buffy and Xander helped Willow to her feet.

"It was never gone," Willow declared. "It was just hiding in me, waiting to burst out. And it's burst. It took me over. And I couldn't stop it." She started crying. Xander hugged her. He tried to comfort her.

"Right now, none of us knows what just happened. Whatever happened, or will happen, we're here for you. I'm here for you. And Buffy's here for you. You're gonna be okay. We won't let you fall."

"We won't," Buffy added. Willow looked over at her and tried to stop sobbing.

"You promise?"

"I do," Buffy responded. Willow let go of Xander and hugged Buffy for a moment. "Willow, you did what I couldn't. I don't know how you did it, and you may not know how you did it, but you did it. You did what you had to do."

"And it's gone now," Willow replied. "I just gotta keep it gone."

Dawn came over to the three of them. "Guys. Guys! Patrick's down." Buffy ran over. He was on his back, with his eyes closed. Xander took a few steps in Patrick's direction, but Willow slowed him down by keeping her left arm around his shoulders.

"Do you mind propping me up," she asked.

"Not at all."

"I feel a little drained."

"You've been through a lot today." The two of them walked over to join the others. Buffy slapped Patrick's face lightly a few times. He opened his eyes and started muttering.

"What's wrong," Buffy asked him.

"You woke me up. I was sleeping."

"You just decided to fall asleep out here on the grass?"

"It wasn't really a choice. I haven't slept in days. This night's been exhausting. Add to that the post-crisis let down when all the adrenaline rushes out of your muscles, and I was ready to conk out. Course, I guess I could get a ride home from you guys, and stay awake until then." He stood up. They slowly began walking back to Xander's truck.

Ian jumped down from the roof. "Where ya gooin'," Pitt asked him.

"To take out the Slayer."

"Nuw why would ya do that?"

"She's tired. It's post-battle. So she's not expecting it. It's the perfect time."

"The perfect time is when she's injured. She looks fine to me."

"You don't want to join me, fine. More glory for myself." Pitt jumped down the other side of the roof and walked away. Ian approached the Grove. He hoped to ambush Buffy when she came through the trees. She came out first, before the others. Ian leaped at her from her right side and tackled her. He got on top and hit her twice in the face. She tried to push him off her, But her pinned down her arms. The others saw what was happening. Dawn ran up and staked him in the back. Buffy got up, pretending nothing had happened.

Dawn held her stake. "Thought I wouldn't get a chance to use this tonight." She looked at Buffy. "Guess we're even now. You saved my life. I saved yours."

"No you didn't! Okay, I'm glad you staked him, but I was in no danger whatsoever. I was just about to use by legs to throw him off me."

"Would that have been before or after he bit you?"

"He wasn't going to bite me! If he tried, I was going to head butt him in the nose."

"Fine. So the next time a vampire's got you on your back, pinned to the ground, I'll stand by and do nothing," Dawn joked.

Buffy's mind had moved on. "Where did he come from?"

"Was he one of the missing cult guys," Patrick asked. The fight was over before he got a good look at the vampire.

"No. He wasn't bald like them. Just an ordinary vamp. So I don't know why he was here." Everyone forgot about the matter as they walked to the truck. When they got there, Willow let go of Xander and hugged Patrick. He seemed grateful yet embarrassed by the attention.

"Thanks for saving my life," she told him.

"Technically, a book saved your life. I just followed its directions. But you're welcome, And thanks for saving the world. Makes sense now. The Mausolus used magic, so only magic could defeat them." Xander fetched his tools and put them in the flatbed. The five of them got in the cabin and left.

First they dropped Patrick off, since he was closest. Buffy got out to hug him. "I see your violating my no hugging rule. But I guess Willow set the precedent."

"I don't know what to say, Patrick. Thanks for everything. Not just the research. You did some pretty great fighting tonight. Couldn't have done it without you. I mean that."

"Glad I could do my part."


	10. Not what he seems

1SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2003

It was a few minutes past 1 pm. Dawn, Willow, Xander and Buffy sat on the far side of the circular table in the Magic Box, resting and figuratively licking their wounds. Xander read the morning paper. "Listen to this. 'A high pressure zone created by the Santa Ana winds from the North met a low pressure zone created by El Nino from the South, creating a cyclone yesterday evening in downtown Sunnydale. The brief, localized storm caused 12 injuries, most of them minor, but did significant property damage.' So that's how they're explaining this one away." Anya walked over to them.

"Thank you for protecting my property. And saving the world. After hearing all you went through, I feel guilty for having so much fun last night while you endured so much punishment."

"It's okay Anya," Buffy told her.

"You deserved some happiness," Xander added sincerely. "Especially after what I put you through."

"Okay then. Offsetting guilt trips, everything's back in balance," Anya replied. "It was a wonderful evening, and I don't just mean the sex, which was even more spectacular than usual. We did some talking, and found out we were both really serious about being really serious. We're moving in together. And we discussed marriage, kids, growing old together, and Sterl's totally into that stuff. We realized we loved each other so much and were so happy together we never wanted to be apart."

Elijah walked into the store. "Hey everybody. By the way Willow, Zooey says hi. We hooked up and I spent last night at her place." Willow and Dawn looked quite shocked. "Jamming. I mean, on the guitar. Not, you know, the other thing it's a euphemism for." Willow breathed a big sigh of relief. "Say Dawn, Janice and Brandon plan to drive into San Diego today. They thought you might want to come along."

"Would you be going," she asked.

"Of course. I mean, if you're going?"

"Sure. I'll go."

"Cool. Wanna head over to Brandon's then?"

"I'd like that. If it's okay with Buffy."

"Absolutely. You crazy kids go on ahead." Buffy thought the more time Dawn spent with Elijah the better. A few minutes later Patrick entered, carrying three large volumes.

"You certainly look less disheveled today," Anya told him. He had shaved and fixed his hair, plus gotten a good night's sleep.

"Thank you," he responded. He put the books down on the table where Buffy, Willow and Xander sat. "I've been meaning to give these to you. Something my colleagues and I have been working on for a number of years. It's an encyclopedia of demons, organized by Linnaean classification: kingdom, phylum, class, order and so on. Makes it a lot easier to identify demons from clues or eyewitness reports. Also details weaknesses, methods of killing. The classification helps makes a big difference, cause similar demons tend to have the same abilities and vulnerabilities. Plus, the indexing's really clear. Much better than the old English texts you rely on. Just something to help you with your work."

Willow flipped through one of the volumes. "Huh. There are 14 different species of Chaos Demon. Who knew there were so many types of chaos? Ughhh. And each one disgusting in its own unique way." She showed the illustrations to Xander. He winced. Good thing Spike wasn't there to identify the species Dru left him for.

"And if there are any major calamities tonight, I'm off the clock," Patrick announced. "I have a date." Everyone looked surprised.

"You date? Women? Human woman," Anya asked.

"What other kind of women would I date," Patrick responded. "I'm not one of those deviant pervs who goes for demon women. Far as I'm concerned that's one step away from bestiality." Xander looked wounded, but was smart enough not to say anything. "But I do find time for a social life, and there do appear to be more than a few women who not only don't find me repulsive, but even find me in some way appealing. Mostly they're brainiac academic types like myself. Cute brainiacs, of course."

"You mean like Winnie," Willow asked.

"We never dated. But she was definitely my type. Anyway, there was something more important I wanted to tell you. Last night — fighting side-by-side with all of you, risking my life for some greater cause, doing things I never thought I was capable of — it was the most amazing night of my life. When we prevailed against all odds. I never felt so alive. I am so glad you let me be a part of your mission. And looking back, I realize that I never want to do it again. What you guys do, with Buffy, is exciting and thrilling and might actually seem fun to some people. But no one in their right mind would CHOOSE to do what you do. Anyone who volunteers for your gang doesn't take your job or your responsibilities seriously. You do it because you HAVE to. And that's the only valid reason for doing it.

"I reached out so I could enlighten you. I've done that. So my job with you is finished. I'll go back to doing my thing. If I come across any important info, or can assist you in any way, I'll get in touch. Otherwise, I'll be back where I belong. Hope you learned as much from me as I did from you. Any last questions you want me to answer before I head out?"

"Psalm 139," Willow said. "You never explained what that was all about."

"It's about Slayers. Least it could be. Talks about God giving humans the power to fight evil, and how humans can defeat evil, godless creatures if they follow the path of the Lord. 'Surely thou wilt slay the wicked; depart from me therefore, ye bloody men.' Bloody men, men of blood who curse God and all that is holy. Sounds a little like vampires, donchya think? There's also a line in there about God creating a human being with super powers in order to fight evil. So it might be about a Slayer. The psalm was written in the late sixth century, when Israel was ruled by the Persians. At that time, the Council was based in the Persian Empire. So it's entirely possible there was a Slayer operating in the vicinity of Jerusalem, and that her feats inspired part of the psalm."

"Oooh. So there coulda been a Jewish Slayer! One of the Tribe," Willow proudly noted.

"The Council and Israel were in the Persian Empire for 200 years. The Watchers would have called at least 50 to 100 Slayers during that period. The Jews comprised more than one-fiftieth of the population of the empire, so I would be surprised if there was NOT at least one Hebrew Slayer, just based on mathematical probability. The Persians, by the way, had a permanent effect on how Slayers and Watchers viewed their mission. The idea that you're part of a titanic struggle between good and evil, and that your actions can swing the balance towards the forces of good, that's from the Persian Council. Based on the Persian theology of Manicheism, where in the beginning there was a First Good and a First Evil, and the forces of Good and Evil have always been locked in a battle in which human beings can play a decisive role. The very idea is alien to Judaism, Christianity, Islam. After all, why would an all-powerful Deity need the help of measly humans to defeat His enemies? But it's an inspiring notion, so it's stuck.

"Before the Persians, the Council was either in Egypt or Sumeria. The Egyptians believed the Gods were kind and everyone went to Heaven. So they extolled the Slayer, told her how her premature death would be rewarded by eternal bliss in a level of the Afterlife normally reserved only for Pharaohs. The Sumerians believed the Gods were evil and cruel and everyone went the Hell. They came up with the idea that the Slayer fights a heroic but ultimately fruitless battle against demons she can never fully defeat. That's also an idea that's stuck through the ages. The Persians weren't optimists like the Egyptians or pessimists like the Sumerians. They were in the middle, and thought things could go either way. And that's what Slayers and Watchers have believed ever since."

"So, the Council hasn't had an original idea about Slayers and their mission for 2,500 years," Buffy asked.

"Nope. Does that surprise you?"

"Actually, it really doesn't," Buffy replied. "By the way, are there any more Ishtar stories that you think I might like to know about?"

"Goodie. It's storytime again," Xander said. "I mean, who doesn't like a good story about the Slayer Goddess?"

"Well, there is one you might relate to. It's not an Ishtar story so much as an Ishtar spin-off story. Any of you ever hear of the Epic of Gilgamesh?" He got blank states. "It was the first book ever written. Ever."

"I have heard of that," Willow said. "But I didn't know there was a Slayer in it."

"There is if you view Ishtar as a Slayer. See, there's this guy called Gilgamesh. He's not an ordinary guy. He's immortal, forever young and beautiful, and far stronger than any man. So he's used to getting his way. He can do whatever he pleases, hurt whomever he wants, and he can't be stopped. He takes over a town. Enslaves all the men. Sleeps with all the women. Pretty much oppresses everyone in his path. So some of the oppressed townsfolk beseech the Gods to come to their aide. The Gods don't want to get directly involved in human affairs. But they create a child called Enkidu. He's every bit as powerful as Gilgamesh, and will be able to counter Gilgamesh's power. Enkidu grows up in the wild. He spends his childhood hunting and being taught to hate Gilgamesh. When he turns 18, he goes to take on Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh meets the young man and they fight. It's close, but Gilgamesh is older and more experienced and always comes out on top in the end, but just barely. But he actually likes Enkidu. Almost thinks of him as a son. Wants to teach him the ways of civilization and be the boy's mentor. But Enkidu hates Gilgamesh, and refuses. He flees back to the wilderness.

"Gilgamesh won't give up. He knows there's something special about this boy. And he knows that sooner of later Enkidu will get strong enough to kill him. He wants to make nice with the boy before that can happen. But Enkidu hates civilization and wants no part of that world. It's complicated and noisy and it bewilders him. Gilgamesh knows how to reach a young man. He sends the most beautiful, most fashionable, most sophisticated woman in town to find Enkidu and seduce him. She finds him, he succumbs to her beauty, and he sleeps with her. Suddenly, civilization doesn't seem so bad. After some more quality time with the woman, Enkidu decides to follow her back to town.

"Now that Gilgamesh has met something that is strong enough to hurt him, he sympathizes with all the people he's hurt. He feels really guilty, and wants to change his ways. When Enkidu comes to town, Gilgamesh is elated. The two of them form an alliance for good. Together, they defeat a number of extremely powerful demons and monsters. They become the champions of the people. They start to believe that as long as they are a team nothing can stop them.

"Ishtar, the uber-Slayer, is offended by these men and their arrogance. She wants to teach them a lesson. She comes down to Earth in the form of a young woman. She confronts Gilgamesh and Enkidu, says she tougher than both of them, and that they should accept her as their superior. They scoff at this. After all, she's just a girl. They say bring it on. So Ishtar fights them. Kicks both their asses without breaking a sweat. Kills Enkidu cause he was cocky and impudent enough to talk trash to her. Takes away Gilgamesh's mortality. Then, having proven she is the best, she left. Gilgamesh was devastated. He blamed himself for getting Enkidu killed. It was like he lost his only son.

"Then he realized he was going to die. He spent a lot of time brooding and feeling sorry for himself. The only thing that made him able to live with himself was helping the helpless, protecting the townsfolk, doing good deeds for people. He tried to get his immortality back. Completed a series of trials and combats, but discovered his quest was hopeless. He was terrified by the idea of no longer existing. But then he realized celebrity was the only way people be immortal. The famous lived on in the minds of their admirers long after their deaths. So he wrote a book about his incredible life and his great deeds so that posterity would know of him. This brought him peace of mind, but he still spent a lot of time brooding, mostly over Enkidu's early death. That's the book. Plus some stuff about God creating the world in seven days and unleashing a Great Flood, stuff that found its way into the Bible. Real short, too. Only like a hundred pages."

"How does that relate to Buffy," Xander asked. "It's all about this guy who's bad and then feels guilty and broods and becomes good and gets this son from out of nowhere who tries to kill him and them likes him and then the Slayer comes down and beats them up and, oh, now I get it." He realized what Buffy and Willow already figured out: Gilgamesh was Angel, Enkidu was Connor, and of course Ishtar was Buffy. The only thing that didn't quite fit was the beautiful, fashionable older woman who devirginizes the Connor character. But no allegory is perfect. Buffy especially liked the part where Ishtar killed the brash and overconfident Enkidu.

"Say Patrick, when you talked about the Persians you sounded like you don't believe in a battle between good and evil. Am I right," Willow asked.

"I believe it's naive to think that's all there is. Living in this town makes you innocent. You don't have gangs or crime or serial killers or child molesters. Something bad happens, it's always a soulless demon who does it, or if it's a person then the person's somehow infected by demonic forces. Evil is committed by monster, and you can kill those monsters. It's like living in a fairy tale — the old-fashioned fairy tales, like the original Mother Goose stories where the kids always die and the Big Bad Wolf brutally rapes Little Red Riding Hood before devouring her. Like the world in those fairy tales, Sunnydale is scary and dangerous, but it's also simple.

"Here's what I believe: the demons left this dimension because they realized human beings were perfectly capable of destroying this world on their own. So rather than ruin it for us, they decided to sit back and watch us do it ourselves, have a good laugh. Far more humans have been killed by people than by demons. Sunnydale's a dangerous town, but I bet you feel safer here than you would in Beirut or Jerusalem. And you can't solve those cities' problems with pointy sticks. You can fight evil things, but you can't fight Evil. You can save the world, but you can't make it a better place. Though you can make your tiny piece of the world a better place. Saving the world's great, but it's what you do after that matters. Speaking of which, I have a date. Fifth-year chem grad student who just finished the first draft of her dissertation and is looking to celebrate. Guess that makes two of us."

Anya came over after helping a few customers and ringing up their purchases. "Just in case you're wondering, sex is always better after a near-death, near-apocalyptic situation."

"I was hoping that would be the case. Maybe I will come back here. Not to be part of your little gang, but to take in some more of Anya's exquisitely barbed wit. You must be a joy to hang around." Patrick waved goodbye to the Scoobies and left. Anya beamed. It was nice to hear from another person who appreciated her candor. She started happily humming to herself as she walked around the store, like some giddy little schoolgirl.

"You're unusually chipper today," Buffy told her.

"What can I say? I'm in love."

"Where is Sterling," Willow asked.

"He's here. But he's on the roof, doing some repairs."

"You're just letting some amateur poke around and play handyman," Xander asked. "You should leave that stuff to the professionals."

"Sterl is a professional. He does construction." Xander looked surprised.

"Free repairs on the weekends. This guy really is perfect," Buffy told Anya. Sterling came in from the back room. It was hot, and he had been working outside with his shirt was off. Beads of sweat ran down his chest.

"I think I got everything patched up. I'm gonna clean up and dry myself off in your bathroom," Buffy and Willow stared at him, mouths open. He walked out again. Anya looked over and Willow and Buffy.

"Buffy, you're drooling on my table."

"Uh, what? No I wasn't. There was no drooling."

"That was just shameless," Xander told the women. "Showing off like that in a public building." He was feeling a little threatened.

"Hey, if ya got it, flaunt it," Willow replied. "I'm not complaining."

"Now I completely and totally understand why you're so happy," Buffy told Anya.

"It's not like I'm jealous of him," Xander said defensively.

"It's okay. I think even Adonis would be jealous of him," Buffy replied with a sigh. "How'd you ever snag him, Anya?"

"Actually, he made the first move and came on to me. It's nice when guys don't act all coy and play hard to get and force me to make ALL the moves. Most guys, you practically have to get naked to get their attention." She glanced over at Xander. Sterling walked into the room with a t-shirt on. Anya ran over to him. Then the bell rang and door opened. "I have to go make money," she told him, and went to talk to the customer. He looked over at the table.

"Hey there Willow, Xander. How's it going?" Then he looked at Buffy. "I don't think we've met."

"I'm Buffy. You must be Sterling. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." She was batting her eyelashes and unintentionally flirting with him. He sat down at the table.

"Nice to meet you too. Did you see that thing in the paper today about what happened here last night? They actually expect people to believe that was a cyclone? Pretty obvious there was a riot or some sort of criminal rampage and the police are just covering that up cause they're embarrassed they couldn't stop it. Am I right?"

"In a very, very, very general sense, yes," Buffy replied.

"So I hear you're in construction. What particular trade," Xander asked.

"Roofing. Plus floors, tiling, carpets. And some plumbing. I work for Natale's."

"I know Vic," Xander responded. "I'm a Carpenter with Nettles."

"You're with Alan. One of the big boys. Not bad. So between you and me, with our respective skills, we could actually built most of a house. Or REBUILD most of a house, as seems to be the need around here right now."

Anya ran up the sale. "Thank you, have a nice day, please come again." They walked out, and she went over to Sterling and sat on his lap.

"How's my honey bunny," he asked.

"Happy now that you're here, gorgeous." They rubbed noses and kissed and acted all lovey-dubby. Sterling realized they had company.

"We're not grossing you guys out, are we," he asked the others.

"If we are, you can always leave," Anya said to them.

"Come on, honey bunny. I don't wanna scare your friends away."

"Sterl, darling, I thought you wanted to be alone with your love bunny."

"Plenty of time for that later. You close in a few hours, right? Then we can go back to the beach, catch another sunset."

"Promise it'll be as good as last night's sunset?"

"No. I promise it will be even better."

"Did he call you bunny," Willow asked.

"And that didn't bother you," Buffy asked.

"Why on earth would that bother me? I love it."

"I thought you were afraid of bunnies," WIllow noted.

"Afraid of bunnies? Who could be afraid of cute little bunnies? Okay, if the floor were covered with hundreds of bunnies, that might be a little scary. But when Sterl says it, that's different. It's all cute and sexy and adorable."

"Cause you're all cute and sexy and adorable," Sterling told her.

"Oooh, that's so sweet. Is it any wonder I love you so much? Now honey, what's the situation with the roof?"

"It's all taken care of. Just a few hairline fractures that go part of the way through the concrete. Nothing that would produce leaks. Not yet. Dealing with it early just saves you future headaches. And potential costs."

"And thus puts more money in my pocket." She kissed him. "You love me AND you make me money."

"Just doing what I can to help. Checking out the roof and the walls, I could see this building's taken a lot of punishment. Since there's no significant weathering, I'm guessing something happened within the last year. Something pounded this building. No significant structural damage, but something or someone gave this place a good beating."

Willow looked worried. "Was it an earthquake? It probably was an earthquake. What else could do that kind of damage?"

Sterling shook his head. "No sign of shearing stress, so it definitely wasn't earthquake damage."

"Is it serious," Anya asked. "Because if it is, I'm sure I can found out WHO caused it and make them, or possibly one of their gainfully employed friends, pay for the damage."

"I said it was taken care of, honey bunny. Good as new. Like nothing happened."

"Well then. Glad to hear that," Willow said with a sigh of relief. A customer entered. Anya got up to do her job. Sterling watched her and smiled.

"You two seem very happy together," Buffy said.

"The moment I met her, I knew there was no one else like her on Earth. I'm a lucky man." He looked over at Xander. "Say buddy, I don't mean to meddle, but Elise is wondering why you haven't called her in a while. She's worried you've lost interest, that she doesn't do it for you."

"Oh, she does it for me. She doesn't, she hasn't, not yet, but she could, and I'd like it if she did. What I mean is, I have not lost interest. Not in the least. I've just been a little busy. If you see her before I do, tell her I miss her too, and I'll be in touch. Come to think of it, I'll just call Elise right now." He left and went outside to make a call on his cell phone.

"Hi Elise. It's Xander. I've missed you a lot. How bout we get together and do something tonight?"

"I'd love to but, the thing is. I have plans."

"Plans? That's what people say when they have a date. You have a date! With someone else?"

"If I had known you'd want to go out, I wouldn't have done it. But it's been a little while, and I just assumed you didn't want us to be serious. Which is fine."

"I don't, I don't know what I want. But I like you Elise. A lot."

"I like you too, Xander. I'm sorry. It's not like I'm rejecting you. If you called me sometime this week, I'd have said yes. But you didn't."

"I know. And that was stupid of me. I'm stupid like that sometimes. Actually, I'm stupid most of the time. My fault. I shoulda called. I get that now. Maybe some other night?"

"Definitely." When he got off the phone, Xander felt awful. He didn't want to hurt Elise. But he didn't want to let her slip away either.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2003

"Working late as usual," Hendrik Hartog said to Patrick as he walked into the lab.

"That's how you make breakthroughs," Patrick responded.

"It is. And that's why you'll be a great scientist. Patrick. When you won the dissertation prize last year, we wanted to hire you. But we couldn't. The budget didn't allow for another professor. I know you could have gone somewhere else, but you didn't, and that was very honorable of you. It was also very smart. Because on Friday, I submitted my letter of resignation to the department chair. I've been here 25 years, and that's long enough. Time for me to head off into the sunset, have a little fun. And when I submitted my resignation, I also requested that the department hire you to take my place. Tenure track position of course. And Albert, being a smart man, was more than happy to oblige. So next fall, you're a professor. Congratulations Patrick. You deserve it." Hartog turned around and walked slowly to the door.

Patrick couldn't believe his good fortune. He got up and tried to think of what to say. "Henry, thank you. I'm honored. This is what I've always wanted." Hartog stopped, and stood with his back to Patrick, who was only standing three feet behind him.

"Funny thing about science. You spend years wracking your brain, searching for an answer to your questions. But the answer was usually right in front of you all along." Hartog turned around. He was a vampire. Before Gugan had time to react, he bit him in the neck.


End file.
